Our babies. Our annelids. Facsimiles of Us. A gushing warm viscous fluid And a conglomerate of meat From the womb pods of our hive Rush out into your oxygen. Our mass will grow indeed. And, Our perfect mitosis will repeat - More beautiful Babies. Our perfect mitosis will repeat - More beautiful Babies. 8 become 16; 16 become 32 You (solo) Must know by now; no doubt Individuality is a cold, broken loop An anachronism of a bygone era
Pass through Our membrane , insect. And be born infinitely back through it. We will have you spread-out in our warmth Under our skins; apart of our million-chambered heart
Join Us.
based off a speech by "The Many" from the 1999 PC-game System Shock 2.