Now focused at
WHEN AFTER EACH WILL CHOOSE WHAT’S CLOSER TO THE SOUL, A PERFECT STRUCTURE, NETWORK OF A DIFFERENT MINDS CREATE A UNIT ABLE TO ACHIEVE AN ELEGANT SOLUTIONS.
TRIANGLE IS THE BRAIN, A CIRCLE IS THE SOUL, A BLOCK IS INSTRUMENT WERE PUT ON PLACE TO WORK ON WHATS IMPORTANT. ALL MANAGED BY THE WOND OF AN INITIAL THOUGHT OF A CREATOR.
THE VIBE AND FEEL OF EACH DEPARTMENT HAS BEEN CREATED FROM THE SCRATCH OF BASIC ELEMENTS OF THREE, FROM WHICH AN ANYTHING AT ATLAS WILL BE ESTABLISHED.
WITH TOPICS, SHAPES AND COLOR SUBDIVISIONS... A NOTHINGNESS OF BLACK, OR FITFULNESS OF WHITE, UNDER THE GRAYSCALE DANCE WILL OWN A BREATH OF RECOGNITION, A TRIPLE PHASE SELECTION TEMPER PERFECTLY ALIGNED.
The picture of a sight, a sound wall deep dark fountain...combined with touch, an air blow or liquid stream. materials designed to solve a task will never be replaced with else as warmth of wood is universal object’s set formation, a stone or metal basic fundament of any operation, a glass transparent emptiness together aimed to set a spirit.
Perspective vision, rules and leading roles, allied from many views
at the strategic flow of focus of an orchestrator
A word which now is being used only to cover up destruction, it has a single meaning in a form of urge to reach a zenith of consumption.
By sacrificing something we believe is meritorious to be extinct, we are indeed an active hand of the creator, with tools rose red of blood... long lost heredity divulge, the final act of sin incapable to overthink.
What do we know about our planet that makes us absolutely sure - we are the kings and our nature is to rule?
Creative thinking gift which made us spread as pests.
How many years we have left to spare by holding “son of earth”, a broken family protection vest?
The nature seems to us as static monument, which walks to slow for our thinking, ergo by crafting helpful tools we can scale up achievement’s rate destroying everything around our kind without even blinking.
A technocracy promenade we think we own, is nothing but an artificial push, bone crashing over-stretch of winter flourishing be gone.
Allowing ourselves to jump into the fire ocean of ambitions, adapt by crawling out of the dirt...a structure higher then the firmament of skies or insect’s underground puzzle cave, still all the same under the crowning power thunderstruck of Earth.
A fire spark of mind we had been gifted by the elder guide, we do not own this endowment, hence little wolf might have been left alone, chased from the land by the decision of his pride.
Direction lost, embracing forest of your lush mistakes is little everything and all that might have left for you to overtake.
In self increasing pace of struggle to perform we outrun initiator’s breath and start inhaling liquid as an air with mouth filled by ignorance’s poison foam.
We all agree that our species walking out only further from any roots we used to have with mother’s strive, yet seems to be that intellect continues to applaud, the last hope buried and we have left no place to hide.
If our drive to constant innovation allowed to top the summit of the living, we need to comprehend that such disparity with nature will likely bring us one of two at hindmost giving.
A painful birth of newer soulless kind with massacre of all before existed or penalty by death from its own clueless mind.
A clash on titan as a planet against the sworn of people. Equal force.
Let’s make our final counting and pray for painless quick defeat of those...