Scorn, the universe I'm entering is fading away. Wandering through all the wreckage that once was my home. Hands are trembling, I am paralyzed. It's all too late, an atrophy is all that is left. A humanized utopia, disrupted. And the smell of death is all around. Beastlike creatures have taken control as history repeats itself. Complex structures degraded, transfigured. Humanity devolved. I'm the last of the bloodline, blessed with the gift of life. Behold, an infinite world divine; shattered and crumbled. Ruined and conquered by those we once left behind. My options are countless, apparatus omniscient. Ruling out nothing as the choice is mine: Frigid thoughts of doom go through my mind. Revive my people but leave them blind. From a golden throne I'll reign. Ever wanting more and more, as we walk the Stygian shore. Hail! And blessed in darkness be my name. It is but an option, a very tempting one in fact. Do I envision an other outcome? After all, I'm but a mere human being. The ever shining stars, quenching as chaos is complete. It's time for a crucial decision. Defining all that is to come. I am granted with the key to unlock a new universe. One that can be designed completely to me will. I am the architect of the future. My blood is the ink I shall use to create my art. Do I choose to become an example for my people? Or shall they be enslaved? I'm the last of the bloodline, blessed with the gift of life. The dream in the palm of my hand. Apokalypsis Eskaton.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
