fantasio

The cold machine emulsifies her eyes But now she sees more clearly than before Hypnotic threads of silver roll and rise With grace, with purpose, through her flesh they pour Her stale synthetic blood, polluted, weak Is channelled to the reclamation drains The tools of Church Electrica, unique Rebuild the shattered shell of her remains A resurrection grid, alive, aware Connects her to the infinite abyss And science far more potent than a prayer Initiates a sacred state of bliss    Renewal is a gift, another dawn    She lives again, a mechanoid, reborn