The Day of Black Sun (Fieldtrip Redux)

Straw didn’t break the camel’s back

Just a boot on it’s neck and a billion whip cracks

Automatons march thousand yard stairwells

Eyes cast from deliverance

Die cast consciousness fades away

Intoxicating machinations catalyze unsolicited geneses

Resulting in resounding tumult, at first light

Like cattle lies ripe for slaughter

Vile homunculi guide the scalpel through

Seas of aught sectioned by mourning rites

Lest sunlight cauterize waxen skin and brimming foam digest newborn pinions

Icarus, fly by night