You were desined to be the scientist the day you saw the light
But the maniac was darkly dreaming on the other side.
You always thought that flesh is weak and you could fix it, given time.
It's not that hard to be a genius, when you see purpose in your life.
You're six or five. A kid to die for. Smart-ass cutie pie doll.
A perfect lifeform with a flaw that no one saw except their idol.
Angels handed all the gifts they could afford to steal and buy you.
A gift of voices in your head that whisper physics all the time,
A gift of selfishness that could make even baby Jesus cry,
Gift of patience gave you
excellence in education, way ahead of a time
And on top of it - curse of intelligence //so 2 say//poetically//
made you a threat to united nations. //hypothetically\\
You lost your eyes, permanent blindness
You asked god several times
is he really the guy that created kindness.
You decided to cross all the lines.
Everything breaks, hearts, bones and lives.
Everyon hates. times after times
Most people like to live off their lies.
Dont even mind losing their fights.
Dudes, chicks, they judge by the size
They are all lunatics,
Parasites
Their truths are all lies, their bodies are soil
That helps you to rise and make your blood boil.
.
There is a limit for being considered and looked upon as a human being.
One cant upgrade itself infinitely- Definately, your soul didnt leave,
But technically you cant ever feel like you did, you never feel sick,
Lung are deleted you dont need to breathe. You got a dildo instead of a dick,
You augment yourself surgically. You usually thought very logically,
Like a machine you wanted to be. Cranium drilled, wires crawl in
Nerves, connecting with interface bring horrible pain that cannot be killed.
But all of it pays off momentally, when you turn your bionics ON - you are fulfilled.
Blood has a taste of thrill and obsession. You work with a passion and chill
Quality surging uphill, far beyond all comprehension,
nothing exceptional - you know the drill-
Build up the pressure, organics are trash, son, no time and resource to waist on morality,
Only perfection - in vector, in digits, high class materials and functionality.
Them will deliver your spirit from evil, who even cared about the reality?
Casting away your mortality, is that decision a product of vanity?
You back up your dignity still, despite going over the border of sanity.
Metal wont heal, but it has a waranty,
Singlehandedly you've just transcended humanity