To think of all that I hate,
I must undo.
And that this task might be complete,
I created you,
The one I hate, you'll uncreate.
I know it's true.
I will be so overjoyed
When he's destroyed.
I know a cosmic shift must take place.
He'll be replaced.
Overwritten, not just deleted;
Don't bide your time, my son, for you are done!
There's a beautiful race for you to run!
And know this: This race must, and will be won.
Could pure fluidity be reflected by a crystal counterpart?
Could slavery and blackness mirror a wayward freedom heart?
Is the green glint of life limned by death's read gleam?
Is this the revelation of something darkened and unseen?
Are you just an expulsion of something deep inside,
A demon creature hidden always in the folds of pride?
Are you a perfect picture of something deep within?
Are you the manifestation of Sonic's utmost sin?
Lost inside the blackness of your deadened gaze
As I cradle in my hands / your steel-made skull
Shaped into form by long-dead man's commands
What once sharp and bright has been made dull.
I command my mind and flesh to see through the haze...
My fingers obey, and gently feel the blue chrome
And my face moves to perceive / its killing face
What fire-hewn landscapes did its depths receive?
What manner of havoc moved to fill that place?
Your forehead is to me a crystal dome...
I try to hold the depths inside, inside my own
But never is it held / and apprehended there.
My fleshy neurons cannot with its mind meld
Just as its memory never held a care.
But yet, what feral brightness had once shone...
What a craze,
Yet an empty home;