Machinery PreparedGatheringThe fragments of bodiesLinking
the words into statementsMachinery's preparedLike a
monster from necronish dimensionsSeparating dust from
sentimentsThe Creator is forced to actThe power of
beholding the wholeThough grounding on artificial truthIs
only doing its dutyFor selling the perfect one in its
kindDistortedBeauty in public serviceSo like a picture
of a dead virginCarved above her watery graveTry to
force the will,Will of your ownDirectionWherein the
lenses lie which bringsTo daylight the Imperfect CrimeThrough
stirring at useful productionsOf the infected mindsThe
game has lost its purposeReproducing the hearts of
a dying childActing in highest position of GodThousands
of coherent lies synthesisedGatheringThe fragments
of bodiesLinking the words into statementsMachinery
is prepared like a monster,
directedTowards the unknown species,Species unknown