Offspring of Atom


The generations of man are many
and have become exceedingly evil
and in his heart is only darkness and death
behold the gods of man will come again
and cleans the earth
for their creations have rebelled against them
and become ill with poison of evil...

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Between the folds of what's seen as time
and the passing climb of souls divine,
there dwells a form with newborn's eye
that bends the space it occupies.

He comes upon a shell he likens
that's made of flesh and nerves to tend,
and as his body sprouts a thousand arms,
his nascent mind grows fond of them.

But stubborn as he came to be,
his reach was short and blatantly
useless for a thing as he,
that shapes the sky so easily.

Locus was his name to we,
who heard a sound that rang above
as Locus rubbed his palms along
the rim of our perception's gates.

The sound we heard so insectile;
filled our heads with blots of green,
and left us feeling cold and shaken
by the state of mind Locus had taken.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I can't think of anywhere to take this.

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