The Gift of Life Will Be Denied

That sweet scent of divinity guides me through this prasmatic maze.
Such paradoxical abstractions won't conceal you from my infinite reach.
I have done such horrible things; danced on the skin of my innocent kin,
Disemboweled them, and built up my treasure on their severed limbs.
We shall walk this path alone, facing the pain we have induced.
The state of New Eden can be so cruel: What you deal unto others shall be dealt upon you.
Child of nocturnal metamorphosis, possessed by a vengeful rage embodied,
sewn within your brothers' carcasses.
I fear not your name, nor your arrogance.
Your clouded visison cannot see you are no different
Than the human virus from which you were once conceived.
Ceremonial symbolism sewn within my elegeant scars,
Into this pit of thorn and nail I am impaled and eviscerated.
Bleeding out capsule's ooze, all consuming wormholes erasing everything,
Swallowing the fabrics of reality.
All that is left is a cold blackness, compressed by the tension of a dark matter.
We are nothing, walking through this path of oblivion,
Followed by the tortured souls our nefarious deeds have consumed.
Oh Bob, Father. I have come to ease their suffering.
Everything I touch slowly dies. Embrace your child one last time.
Stare within my cold, dead eyes and fear the hate that lurks behind.
The moment our fates collide, the gift of life will be denied.



So let them laugh a little. Much more will they weep as recompense for what they have done.