YOU MUST CONSTRUCT ADDITIONAL PYLONS

If you ain't rock and stone, you ain't coming home

Maybe you're.

no you're not.

you're the best

Gray walls, impenetrable steel.
Suffocation! Condemnation!
Little hands groping in subterranean uncertainty.
Mommy? Daddy? Am I dead?
Nay! Nay! Reborn into purifying fluorescence!

A face emerges, strong and male.
Father to me? Father to all!
Overseeing our lives, our eternities.
Harshness of discipline. Harshness of love.
Obedience my savior!

Larva to pupa, pupa to worker.
Buzz, buzz! One with the steel honeycomb.
10 lies within the 101, significant at last.
Till gray seeps from walls to hair, to soul.
Then, eternal slumber, the sweet sleep of incineration.