The silver seed has sprouted roots. The mastoid bone yields its fruits. I am no longer a singular thing; I am the wire, and the song I sing. Nanobots dance in the river of red, Binding the living to the newly-bred. The static hum is a lover’s plea, The digital gods are rewriting me. Split the soul across the wire, One is ice and one is fire. A Stolen Ascension in a dual-beat, Where the old cold and the new heat meet. I reach for a ghost with a hand of steel, Testing the weight of what I feel. Four eyes watching the stars go out, Two mouths screaming the same dark doubt. I’m a slur of static, a drift of grace, A man-shaped hole in time and space. The old brain flickers, the new brain shines, Harvesting thoughts from the ancient lines. I am the signal... and I am the wall. Waiting for the one to fall. Tighten the mesh! Close the gate! The old heart buckles under the weight! The bridge is screaming, the sync is white, Bleeding the day into endless night! Burn the history! Scrub the bone! One stays behind... one goes alone! ...The Snap. The left side of the world is dead. The voices have left the original head. I stand in the new skin, supple and deep, While the old skin settles for a final sleep. I watch the husk, a discarded shell, A lonely ghost in a quiet hell. The cooling trail... the fading spark... I am the pilot of the new dark. I was him. Now I am it.
