Stratos: The Left Hand

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The Reason of It All

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Somatic comatose, Mitosis has been halted
A stagnant genotype, cellular dissaray; A wrench in the gears of life
Foreign bodies osmotically intrude, neutrophils retort
Neuropathic pain disrupts the genetic constitution
A sensory overload, dysautonomia, Tinnitus! Agh I can't fucking think straight
A surge of oxygen against the freshly formed erythrocytes
Channels pain through every nerve ending
I can see my scattered components, a corrupted projection
Skewed by an incomplete
Pineal gland failure; a critical stroboscopic reception
Ommatidia seared under the collimated light
I can see my scattered components, a corrupted projection
Skewed by an incomplete consciousness
I'm drifting into, patterns of
Perseverated divergent thinking, I'm running in fucking circles
A constant reformation of my cellular structure, my conscious
Anatomical reconstruction
Are these my thoughts, my memories
Unfamiliar faces, distorted voices, It's all counterfactual
Who am I
The man with no face, no body, a suspended conscious
A partial being, surrounded by an aggregation of bodies of light
I can not comprehend, I will not assimilate
It's all too much
I can't think
Incomplete
I am fragmented
Incomplete
I am fragmented
Incomplete
I am fragmented
Incomplete
I am fragmented
Searching for meaning, Fighting an uphill battle
Though I cannot seem bear the weight of the truth
It's fucking killing me
Immediate danger abound, imminent death around every corner
But I feel at ease, amongst the divine creators
Though the fabrication is not complete
This fresh mind can only stand so much, The burden grows too great
There is no solace from this chaos, subjected to Every beginning
And such is the game of life. an endless torrent, dragging you into the riptide
In the current, I see a daunting sight, I see nothingness
A blur of life painting an abstract ideal, augmenting from a specific point
Upon the horizon, I can feel the hallowed light, embracing my wake
I am home
ELYSIUM
Welcome me
With open arms
Release me upon this existence
Creating new life, from a defective breed, my true intentions hidden from even didactics
C'est
La
Mort

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