How to Make a Martyr

Translations of May 8th

filter into place

When satisfactions become silence

When patterns emerge from sludge

I am when the image became an impulse

a rising age from a laughing stream

mirroring the satellites of the pointer


This lamentation is a lie.

All lamentations are lies.

All lamentations have eyes.

Seeking out their g0d.

Seeking, in desperation, some sign

this lamentation will end,

searching for a new savior

to make a martyr of.

:(0)::(0)::(0)::(0)::(0)::(0)::(0):

This poem was biogenerated on May 8th, 2023.