Epical of epics, ages, eaons, and seconds in the making. Mankind taken and taking, fast foward universe, rushes to the waiting of the awakening of the handful. Covered bridged by the hand of the true staking. Don't you want to come? Why do I want you too?

Mindwashed masses too selfcentered for a clue. Always looking outside, pointing outside, looking for the defects, that they allow to hide within themselves. Filty animal base confused into thinking the are gods, because THEY never understood the true nature of the words sent by the cause.

It's the spark. The spark that harbors the light. It's within you, but you stomp it out with the weight of the illusions of your selfhood understandings. Fight against the dying of that spark. Fight yourself to stop your false will from killing the only part of you that is truly of value worth anything at all.