I watched the blood of the mother of mother spray a crimson mist upon a white handkerchief. It was a sign that she was soon to pass and time brought this sign to conclusion and left me as a child with a trinket carved out of jade. This trinket took the form of an elephant for an elephant never forgets.
Born with the bombs
That blew apart
Our civilized unions
And broke our fragile hearts
These streets run red
In all of the confusion
Just more collateral
A blood to concrete perfusion
For the divine
Sleeper’s dream
It is but a warning
A silent war of thoughts
A tempestuous brain storming
Decisions clouded over
This dire reign of greed
Tapping failing veins
To gloat rather than feed
A price you never paid
A debt that you created
Always paid in full
By those that you sedated
With chemical and cult
You pierced
And then you pried
Until their cerebral cortex
Was washed
Then hung out to dry
For the divine
Sleeper’s dream
No need to pay them heed
For you will never suffer
For you will never bleed
We build our machines with the hope that they will excel where we have failed.
Bound by an unspoken code and thrown in to a life of deception. The Devil put their heart in to sure hands for safe keeping. There was a long journey ahead with many paths written in blood. The undoing of what had been done and the liberation of future days. Retribution would bring redemption but first the bloodline had to be secured.
A different kind of music for a new kind of magic.
An air of mystery wrapped in such familiarity.
A feeling woven in to the unknown.
A story written by lucid dreams becoming real over time.
It is these mental projections that keep you ahead of the curve.
Some more animation in the works.
