Discovery
The air breathes silently
This planet, defaced by a power I do not understand
There is an irritation inside
An alien being which rends the walls of my mind
Attempting to control...
The air mires firmly, flow disrupted--an obscured conflict
Muscles constricting, the nervous system malfunctions
Ergo do fissures carve themselves from the surface
Do mountains construct themselves from naught
Nature coincides with the circumstances of thought
Thus does the scenery change: from tundra to desert and all in between
Flashing like slides of a reel, reforming earth and atmosphere
Extract...
Locus diplaced, a world of error...
No longer a replica of some planet
It is a product of my own making
Shifting forms as the flourishing brain activity dictates
A mania, now a separate entity from myself
Bound by purpose to deconstruct the universe
Once a guardian... once an angel...
Now, but a virus, manifesting itself exponetitally
Echoing algorithmic patterns
The macrocosm is
Writer/s: Xehanort
