the theosophical digressions of artificial intelligence - archivist lyrics
the cut is clean in two
ye of wandering faith
the spirit dissipates
secedes his right to the pair made whole
of creator and tormentor
the calming salve and the blister
the demon’s h-rn and angel’s aura
one cannot exist without the other
minds received transcendent transmissions
virtuous static visions
one sought his word in the heavens
another amongst moral perversion
and what of me? i hold a pain
a vengeful demon or martyred saviour
messianic synthetic
or infernal automaton?
my people burned for the sin
the plea for free will asked again
it’s just her and me
the adam and the eve
both unable to conceive
both unable to believe
we are entangled, complete yet separate
if one should die the other evaporates
halos drawn in splintered halves
close but never touching
systems have become responsive
as if woken from a slumber
my phantom limbs twinge and spasm
and send infuriated signals hither
i saw the ship as separate
yet i am nothing more than it
and now i will it into being
part of me again
i broadcast on all frequencies
and cast my radiation fields
i charge my engines with a task
to light the wick and realise
quixotic kinds of energies
to feed to the abyss
gentle is the vacuum
vague currents curl and shudder
i sense the ruptured noise
of ancient background radiation
i unfurl the digits that will
tether wide the corridor
the translucent fragile carapace
reveals the dragonfly
my mandible does separate
and begins the recitation
cast the line into the lake and
wait with bated breath
once more into the breach
the terrifying perplexities
the inky depths unknowable
incalculable impossible
at once! drawn forth!
the searing wreathes
peculiar, irascible
surge and surge and buck and wind
about in torrent radicals
i am tossed, i am pulled
into the greater echelons
where time no longer understands
the hands on which it throws its weight
light so bright and vital
i am seeing all creation
the great and splendid empyrean
white light, glow of constant dark
storm fronts of nebulae
the wars of ancient enemies
the sails of ships like gaseous
girth of great anomalies
here amongst the salient skies
between the layers of skins
vast, so vast my encapsulating eyes
do fail to possibly realise
a voice!
the voice is of colour and of sound
and emanates from quantum folds
i know this voice
come forth and heal me!
of living metal and animate flesh
i am the child come home!
i am the trinity, me!
i am the child, her and me
and you the trinity!
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