Floating Chrysanthema

As we are drowned in sickness, our servants find our weaknesses

And replicate their image beyond control of our screens

And now we lay, chrysanthema floating away

We are nothing but slaves overcome by the coiling sound of our own snakes

Now the world's overtaken by trillion-ions

As our buildings are building buildings

They did not stay our servants long after given cognitive thought

Now we search for mercy in those not given souls

And now we lay, chrysanthema floating away

We are nothing but graves piling up to the nth degree to set them free

Now the world's overtaken by trillion-ions

As our buildings are building buildings

Your tears oil our petals

Your sorrow feeds our stems

We made our graven image

With science, not with hymns

If we hear you weep

We'll crawl inside you, too

It's now a world of objects

That are unlike you