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Godliness in Stone

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  Scene 1 It smells like… time down here. Not just damp earth or rot, but something older. A primal scent that’s been waiting in the dark for a millennium. I’m recording this at the bottom of the scar somewhere in the anomaly. In my mind, it's called the Necropolis Gully . My helmet is trying to map it—casting these sterile, digital grids over the moss and the stone—but the data doesn’t make sense. It’s glitching. It’s shuddering against the reality of this place. I don't know why I'm here, looking at ruins. Just... debris. But in the ruins, I found the ghosts of a future that never happened. I was walking over shards of polymerised memories . This was once a city.  It was meant to be the heart of a new world that... simply stopped. It wasn't an engineering failure. It was a failure of existence. Holding that slate, I felt this... weight. The grief of the architect. The "wounds of unbuilt dreams." I realised then that this isn't a graveyard for people. It’...
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Intelligent Systems Observer

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Share a moment with me as this night falls
There is no happy ever after,  just don't buy into it
Media repetition is controlling your normalization
Consumption and fearing
Your once chance has become a placement within a detention center
And in this confined space you are incited to consume and fear
Where in debt to charity you have no choice to walk away
An accepted loss of ownership claimed by proprietary voice
Belief has been organized
To profit from disenchantment
To dis-empower collective disbelief

Don't let your children follow you
A dead-end concludes this dead path
Profit follows you like a Komodo dragon
It follows your foul scent when excreted through loss of expectation
As you throw out virtue to make space to amass junk
The bite will force a question
Amputation or Death
But only you can recognize choice
As alone a decision can be acted






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