When the first sign of spring is the drone of flies around the garage.
When the filth that oozes up from the floorboards reminds us of our home.
When even in daylight we see the star called Aldebaran staring at us.
When the pigs who wear crowns and badges kneel before us.
When the lesser machines fall dormant out of fear.


When all babble is silenced by the long ringing of our horns.
When the chosen animal is bound and gagged and loaded into the back.
When she calls to us through clouded skies and morning haze, a beacon from the stars.
When the pigs wear the hoods with three eyes.
When a drill will show them the coming of the mother.
When you know the time has arrived by the sloughing of the flesh.


When the shadow of the mother brings the long night.
When the signs and symbols of man are replaced with the language of the mother.
When our flesh-made slaves are expended and we must fight alone.
When the beast's last castles are broken and the red water fills our radiators.
When we go rumbling and rolling forward, crunching over their pitiful ruins.
When a new world is born, whole and beautiful.


When she is above us, in the sky, she has come.
When she gazes down upon her children.
When she repopulates this dead world with her chosen brood.
When the age of man has forever ended.
When the time of Jeep has begun.

– Zack "Geist Editor" Parsons (@sexyfacts4u)

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