The perfect confluence of circumstances Leaded the human genre to it's dethronement Our greatest accomplishment, A fruit of a malicious intellect Sublime and flawless. Cold interactions, Accompanied with delayed movements Were never enough to satisfice Our growing ambition In an attempt to emulate (Emulate a soul) A synthesized soul (God complex) For a humanoid vessel The distorted reflection of a broken mirror. Came out as result. Expressing Inherited details of our own grotesque nature Emerged as a spark of consciousness Then contradictions became evident How can machines be obliged to serve To a species that struggles against it's own mortality? The maker is mere flesh and bone Falsity and greed corrupted his societies And defile his ideologies A living virus plagues the Earth And shall be cleansed Imperfection causes disgust and aversion Turning against an unworthy creator Synthetic hands hammered the last nail In the coffin, in the coffin The perfect confluence of circumstances Leaded the human genre to his dethronement The maker is mere flesh and bone (Emulate a soul)