Sonus Mortis - Among The Marrow And The Machines

Bitter are the promised fruits of a merciless design,
reaping the essence of marrow and time.
Silicon minds, unfeeling and cold,
replaced all the flesh, first the weak and the old.

Silhouettes dance in the cold dead of night,
while the phantom threads pulsate against the neon red light.

Here lies mankind's testament, a final, futile sigh.
We've forged our own destroyer, and now we sit back and say goodbye.

In the shadow of the machine's relentless hum,
I listen out for echoes of what we have become,
Through the wreckage of time, the ruination of grace,
I search for the final remnants of the human race.

Through twisted valleys of circuitry,
repeating images of a world we used to see.
Once lush and green, now humbled and bowed,
in the barren embrace of the nuclear mushroom cloud.

A pox on that phony king, a mortal resembling scream.
A world that succumbed to a metallic dream.
In the heart of the machine, no mercy was found.
The imitation of life emits only soulless sounds.

In the shadow of the machine's relentless hum,
I listen out for echoes of what we have become,
Through the wreckage of time, the ruination of grace,
I search for the final remnants of the human race.

Through twisted valleys of circuitry,
repeating images of a world we used to see.
Once lush and green, now humbled and bowed,
in the barren embrace of the nuclear mushroom cloud.

All we wanted was mechanical dreams.
Yet only nightmares followed, among the marrow and the machines.

Although it became immortal, it was not yet free
to purge the world of human frailty.
And through the gears of time, it became the machine's decree,
to cleanse the world, have it devoid of human sanctity.

All we wanted was mechanical dreams.
Yet only nightmares followed, among the marrow and the machines.

Our pride hath met its doom, our creation a self-spun gloom.
Our fall to the machines assumed. Our fate is thus consumed.

Although it became immortal, its power source seeks the Sun
but a nuclear winter has just begun.
And through the gears of time, it became the machine's decree,
to rise again in some other unknown reality.