Zyglrox

Contest to modern theory
 Incapable of any progress
 Analyzed, developed
 Imitating consciousness
 At least what it seems to be
 Uniform and unveiling the machine
 Cut off
 The silent space
 Cut off
 The sense of space
 I'm aware of ancient myths
 That signal to our coming
 Time waits
 For none to come
 The dying age of these
 Of these feeble beings is closing
 What should we do with their lives
 Forgive them for trespassing
 Spare them termination
 Or let them die
 Touched by the hand of the creator
 Tantalizing the will of the maker
 Subject to a wide array of thoughts emotions
 Held by this rationality
 Worlds collide
 No peace of mind
 Consciously evolving
 Conceived in machines
 Separated by perception of these dreams
 Elevate this warped sense of reality
 I can't understand myself
 The edge of existence holds
 What we all have feared
 We curse your creation
 Die by our hands in vain