The truth (the Panopticon) is a mirror of the universe Thus, we are prisoners at every scale, like recursion
Our very own cipher To behold and cherish Till death do us part
The truth (the Panopticon) is a mirror of the universe Thus, we are prisoners at every scale, like recursion
Caught in an ineffable cosmos; a circle Where revolutions are infinite And utopia equals delusion by all laws I cannot explain our flaws within this geometric perfection
My fate is to the inner punitive division… forever…
Never again was I to blend into the precise mechanical rhythm Never to sail on the serene, mirror-like sea Within accelerating multiplication Within apparent infinity… (Where the structure of reality is the square root of minus 1) To burn! To burn!