Move the situation at hand and stretch common web through market streets.
Moreover common man, a mangled corpse falls famous after a life served empty, the equation stretched thin due to those who wish to believe in no wrong.
Riddle me this; a monstrosity of human desire and the ossuary of humanistic dogma.
A promise? No.
A tale? Yes. A tall tale that fell far short of mark. In the eyes of all holy you will only find the eyes of all who condemn. The true pattern is one forced back.
From the scales of skin to the stretch of sound, we see colors alight in a new dawn. A morphing image of pattern woven through self loathing creates a modern miracle; had we ever seen one. We've heard the stories and now the chicken wired lips are forced to show nothing but a mechanistic proof and another blindfold labeled with the guarantee of perception.
A view of a world apart from the selfish nature of man… A world conjoined with the signals of sirens we leave in the backwash and a world of progression we embrace.
For once upon a time I saw a fantasy; ecstatic and demeaned, but still it truly showed the brilliance of motion.
Welcome to the machine ladies and gentlemen.
You remain a shadow.