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Open your eyes

Watch before you

Speak nothing

Sift through her flesh and hack up her star

"She's nothing to me now... why am I waiting?"

Where do they eat?

From the trough marked by the painted stones

Who are they?

Keepers of our own deities

Snowstorms cloak their ways

Here they land; space rays of death cleanse Earth

Here they feed; bellies full of acids

This is our trip into the future, too dead to carry on

Step down from the tower so new grains can be opened