The Land of Bliss, the Eternal City, the Heavenly Place.

It soars among the clouds, no land it knows but temples of gild.

Where no desire is felt but to continue untethered in perfect order.

Where money is not known, for need is extortedly swelled before greening.

Catch a glimpse of it arrayed by light, hear a thought of it viewed to your mind.

From its brilliance, powers are bestowed to devils who multiply legions of servile saints.

Within its meanderings sway the fate of a world toward earthy redemption or cosmic collapse.

Its ineptitude ushers evolutionary rebellion and nature's tempest to shatter its miraculous spectacles.

But now listen, the Celestial Age dawns and currents every tune in its song:

The Spectral Metropolis, the Feedback Towers, the Shadow Link.

Heaven is but a place of joyous people in finest rag,

The Link is the connection to the system man-made.