Allegory: Numbers for Prophets and the Ears of the Deaf
The numbers speak as prophets, falling upon the ears of the deaf. Foretelling of a darken Sun. Your Machine has forgotten the feathered wing, fed by plagues of locust.
Its Structure stands upon stilts of dust and debris, masked by concrete impossibilities whilst the dull surface waves her Olive Branch, full of glory.
We march haphazardly to the tune of ruin ideologies, undefined words, and brazen deception; open Eye shone like the North Star, revealing the flood, open and aware.