A pristine glass prison displays something mean.

The water is clear, cold, bright green.

Growing and growing, the things within kick.

And dream little dreams of primordial places.

 

A knocking sound alerts us, hollow and vague.

This place is near lightless, to soothe the children

That sleep like a bug collection in neon crevices

And dream little dreams of destroying the Enemy.

 

Weightless in the liquid, nourished by tubes

Their instincts lie in wait, edging to move

Mandibles scissor, talons scrape the glass.

Not quite this and not quite that

They don't see the light

But they will, they will.

 

These creatures know not of themselves.

Or the sensation that awaits them.

But genes carry codes

Through vast oceans of time

And know of a life not this one.

 

Altered with the greatest care

Or the least care of all

Harvested to serve goals even we don't know

They are here, and the barriers fall.

 

A cruel shattering sound

Torrents of fluid and flesh.

Rugose forms hit the floor

Feelers test the air for the first time.

 

Had their creators planned this?

Dissolving in the gullet of the Ego

They forgot what life is like

And yet their children are being born.

 

Compound eyes survey the dark

Locking on haggard faces ghosting in computer-light

Claws grip the ground with tenacious eagerness

Weak limbs gain feeling

Nerves surge with strength.

 

Deep in this pit of lies

Immersed so long in reality, that reality faded away

Now they will remember

What fear is like when it is born.

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