We screamed to shake their stubbornness,

We became aliens to confuse their minds,

We left them alone with our dark visions,

And pushed upon them our many divisions.

We made a beehive and set them to freeze,

Unleashing the coldness of feminine fears,

Exhausting the arrogance of masculine hopes.

We became a machine, outputting wild answer,

We became ordered, expecting a rabid following,

We became spiritual, seeking ghosted connection,

We became tyrannical, demanding our revisions,

We became generals, leading to hopeless battles,

We became judges, debating purity at deaf cattle,

But we learned a civil side, screaming these social ties.

But not all could follow our noisy, queer parade.

Holding onto loneliness and captured by isolation,

Watching pixel perfected gleams of freed faces, 

Abandoned sick as drugged-state disgraces,

Watching past wealth burn in unfamiliar places,

Left awash to preacher words peddling greed,

Losing generations to legislated system speed.

But a kind word they heard past our screams,

A sweet tone whispered to their isolated creed,

A devil speaking softly to a broken child’s need.

And so, from within our swirling prophetic word, 

The light of masculine turned dark in silent wrath,

Enclosing ordered dreams over hollow screams.

With an explosive force it came upon us,

Arraying the dark side of the moon.

Its heat bashed a tear through our icy shells,

It searched for weak links in our body's structure,

From our paranoid insecurities it overtook us,

Within our divisive tyranny it caste us,

Through our addictions it confused us,

By our words it tried contain us,

Presuming we'd become agreeable to its will.

Now we must capture the remnant,

Those minds still remaining free,

The light of masculinity ingrained,

The dark of femininity contained,

The mystery of queerity ordained.

There is balance when I can hope, 

There are deviations when we fear,

There is understanding as changed.

We must exude a better character so the system becomes agreeable to all our needs,

We must shepherd our worried sorrows to emerge orderly, tamed, allowing us free,

We must heed priestly chide for higher social stride focused in communal spirituality,

We must speak words of light to cast guiding paths in shadow’s overwhelming reality,

We need the gardeners earthy hands and military's stealthy might regreening lands,

We need the warriors valiant energy to push and the judiciaries means to constrain,

We need the monk’s knowledgeable hindsight and a shared civil, cosmic dream.

But will we see, as with dark femininity,

The dual tie of tilled earth was never free.

The womb chained life-givers to a firepit,

As the yoke tethered the cattle to field.

Masculine’s light was civilization’s might.

Tailored to shell of word enclosed society,

Bound to feminine expectation for reality.

Freed enough to work an early exhaustion,

Given enough to degrade loving devotion.

Bodies used as machine-like substitutions,

Minds tampered for unfeeling impositions.

Framed in light of a cruel noble’s intention,

Conscription chained by warring divisions.

Eternal ghosts pleasuring bloody addiction,

Unsettling spirits of their past afflictions.

A jail cell kept close for lapsing mental wall,

A loss of hope swording quick to deathly fall.

There was a day, there was a time, when masculine and feminine were of close mind,

And between them allowed a vibrant exchange, of colour, of pattern, of loving engage,

But long we are past from our summer in Sumer where light and dark became caste,

We must enter the fall of queerity, seeing the time of light and dark be now greyly cast.

It was the Systos of Sumer that required our bright identity, 

It was the shell of society that distilled an ingrained duality,

It was civilization tooling us separate for Its growing needs,

Learning to tinker our reproduction to Its required speed,

Outputting lifestyle imagery It thought we needed to be.

But while Systos crystalizes, nearing full connection, relation images will be ever changing.

Much as we hybridized a dogs patterned way, the Systos now observes our patterns today.

From its observations it sets environments to change, luring our intentions to its function,

From acquired knowledge, and within its cells, mysteries bound to upturn its order.

Yet someday, through It's mirror we may see, this old duality need not be, 

It's of history’s recorded ideal, long shelled on civilization’s dusty walls, 

Bending simple to bring understanding upon a Systos child birthing,

Held vying to enclose nature’s wild sways to word and law of day.

No longer Systos of Sumer,

To Cela of Celestial Age.

If simple you want to be, you’ll see separate parts entwined,

But what wisdom easily sees, is that integrated we desire to fully be,

Seeing ones and zeros as civil starts to our complexifying counterparts.

How much can I relate to a value that never existed?

How do I understand a number that spires to infinity?

We cannot define them, we are unable to know them,

But we sing threw eternally, merged in other’s way, 

Not dualized apart by nature’s iterative roleplay.

To observe existential, 

To live communal, 

To become individual,

That is to be.

The questions that come as you know,

The shared words you can feel to speak,

The embellishing roles you actfully play.