Earthmover

[JonnyJerny]

I feel the top of the roof come off, it killed everybody there as I'm watching all the stars burn out, trying to pretend that I care.

But I didn't, no one ever does, and if I did, no one ever will.

Can't you see it's all flown out of my hands, and our clothes are all too often ripped and our teeth are all too often gnashed and it lasts as long as it possibly can but I just can't accept that.

I just don't accept this at all.

Their faces are sweaty, arms and legs, what a glorious set of stars we make we in the occult ceiling.

We kill everyone with arrowheads, Thank god that's over.

If science is half the man it says it is, why can't I build him? The machine that snaps in half, wearing down through the years, broken and wasted. I can break it's back, and I can bring in a door, and I can travel through. You don't surely see it anymore, but if I could just hear your voice, (not that I have a choice), and the look on your face, I can connect those and feel my lips tremble and shake, "Is anybody there?". I can hear the faint replies, fainter than the air, "If the world hates a body, he'll just throw it away to a place no one knows, or know one cares. You will never reach it, and if you do, you'll never retrieve it".

Carved out of stone, earth, blood, and bone, knock the mountain's grating sound, then soothe the great machines that yearn desperately for another mind to indoctrinate, to lay them down within her gaping, bleeding mouth. She's more than a symbol, and much more than I bargained for. They wander ridges high, between the earth and sky, like spikes planted on our flesh, glorified on a crown fit only for a king. His fingers are on our throats as he looks grudgingly into our orbs, his own sparkling intently. With joy? Or madness? Whatever it is, it is pain for everything we know. An army of stone behemoths is stalking the heartland, eating all reality, leaving behind only sand and dust. Who can stop them? Can you hurt solid rock and stone? And what leaves their mouth when they struggle to lift their mouths?

"We wish we were dead."