Some still swear to hear the infrasonic disturbance The rattle of the seismic waves Centuries old yet driven firmly Into subconscious minds of the new offspring What is Is what should be What is Is what must be What is Is what will be Handmade suns conjured out of thin air Gases devouring flesh and crippling minds Mutations lasting for centuries The face of the landscape reshaped For millennia to come Autonomous unmanned aircraft Scorching the corpse of the city Decades after the last man had been seen In the forgotten works Let the utter silence of the charred souls Be forever sealed In the black soundless sugar