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To become god-like, you will die god-like

Time is the eternal executioner

Our measurements all equal zero

Frozen in time, frozen in place

Trajectory movement only perceived

By the empty sockets of our past

Knowing our future won't last

The preoccupation of space and time

The apophis our greed slit by the throat

Bleeding its daylight, warm, anemic

It's glow, coils, vomiting all of its shine