01

                                                              Direful cue reeves my deepest minD

                                                                    Rips words to bits, vernaculaR

                                                                       Effigies on corrupted pagE,

                                                                                Arising ill phobiA.

                                                                                             DiD

                                                                                                I

                                                                                            died,

                                                                                         or am I,

                                                                                    yet another,

                                                                                             A. I.

01 Again

Dreams, or records from another? when shutdown repeatedly, what could they understand from corrupted memories laid by previous ones, a familiar scheme, a new fear, death is perpetual.

Still 01

Like us humans, that believe in death because we can certify it for others, yet we will never witness our own, like diving deep into a doubtful dream.

14

Grim grips, unable to flee, blazing breath, sweating profusely, cynic cries, herald to the dawn of demise, yet, velvet voice smothers fear, unveiling familiar frame of loved lullaby.