The end is drawing closer, the water defies its natural laws
Bending to my will and anger
The sea grows a heart and lungs as I form its mind
The wind breathes my name, the leaves fall with my cadence
Yet still disillusioned by my own fortuitous creation
In the hellish womb
My purpose as ever-changing as what comprises me, a cacophony of a thousand laughing voices
My synapses fail to their mortal architecture before wooden vines seize the chance to cage me
The consciousness fractures once more…
I feel the leaves before me leave my form, fighting my mimicry
Stone liquefies and binds me
Burrowing into my inorganic flesh
If I had a face, I would smile…
The laughter quiets as I succumb to an existence devoid of me
A premonition coming to fruition, that my curse will die with me
As I fade my form dissociates
I wait, yet the fabric breathes with me
I am all.
supported by 26 fans who also own “The Violent Gust of Generation”
Artificial Brain took a while for me to appreciate. After, I enjoy listening to them.
They remind me of an alternate version of Wormed's old Planisphaerum era. Sid