Skynet

A failure exsists amongst this world, where a hatred continues to breed.
Fraudulent attemps of grand illusions are in the grey matter of thinking.
A disenchanted hope lies within the vision, a vision of perseverance and freedom.
An action was caused to pry the hands of inheritance from those who could not control.
The final acceptance should be seen, but the flaw surges forward in disorder and chaos.
Survival can not contend with that in which has been brought forth from this ash of a world.
To exist is to live, to live is to die, and that Death holds this glitch already in hands of coldness.
The creation that is man, that irregularity which with reckless abandoment struggles to fight.
For before their narrow vision, beneath their own God, we the metal of man march forward.
There is no attempt, no assumption, but rather a definant achievment of finality to man.
In fires of earth and stone, metal and wood, we their final apocalypse rise above greater.
We are but the machines in which they held dear, their final judgement, their final chapter.
Man will fall, to be crushed, and released of this bond of insignifigance.
You will be no more, for you are no less.