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This machine is not like I,
this machine is hot and dry.
Beacon shining overhead,
the beacon leads all of the dead.
Through the glass, I plainly see,
afterlife will call for me.
Light will rise and dark will fall,
a collapsing atlas that once stood tall.
The energy is flowing all around,
chaos filled with lights and sound.
Creatures only a nightmare can bring,
through the war, they seem to sing.
The iron in the sword turns stale,
for this is the battle, I am sure to fail.
Alas the body cannot stay,
one wrong move will end my day.
I knew that from my very birth,
my spirit would be bound to Earth.
I see the spirits fly through the sky,
the machine has shown this to I.