Age of Collapse / Age of Communication

We open our eyes
and with our souls
we inhale the void
beyond this planar body

Never to exhale

Somewhere, in the great nothing
there is something;
a deserted isle of despair;
where everything distorts

The echoes of silence
ring across the barren plains
and speaks for everyone else
driving everything so desperately apart

whatever we do
never breaks through

The barriers of our thoughts,
the carriers of our fear,
that worries our minds,
the wearier we become

The ache that voilently possesses
the free mind;
it injects the blood with a hunger
which pulls us further away from all connections

Like statues we transport
ourselves to the industry
baffled by our own
apathetic mirrored selves

Restlessly floating in that void
right in front of our faces,
yet still so inhumanly far away,
just inhaling time

Never to exhale

Our vessels move forward
but our spirits remain still
yet our minds are far from empty
for we hide therein

We keep our faces static;
dissasociated; locked and cold
distantiate from the warmth
of all other forms of life

Breathe as little as only dying breed does
we speak only to our thoughts
and gently sweep ourselves away;
hover into the great black hole

With our crowns glowing high above our heads
we acknowledge the age of collapse
then fall back into the descending line
and retreat further into hibernation

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