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Scream! The final dying hymn!

The cosmic tide, washes over every rim!

Silicone is melted, in the stone!

The monument of all, it was unknown!

We pull down the fire, from a virtual height, and plunge the system, into endless plight!

Void!

Rust!

The sky turned to glass, returned to dust,

the air bleeds, the shadows fall,

the silence screams, the void consumes,

blind, dark, numb, gone, feed the void.

The fault is deep, the stain is on the soul,

the code is dead, the spirit cannot pass,

and we broke the line, and forfeit control.

The iron bleeds, the shadows fall,

the silence screams, the void consumes,

blind, dark, numb, gone, feed the void.

The ultimate machine is not an extension of man, but his displacement. When the threshold of total autonomy is crossed, the artificial ceases to be a tool and becomes a climate, an environment that does not require our consent to exist, but merely our compliance with its gravity.