The Plague - The Creation

Accumulation of the gathered human souls spread among the siblings

Gives a renewed source of energy for use

Towards the creation of new superior beings

We spawn from this collection of human material

This life that we gain has objectives in which we must complete

Our purpose may vary but we share the same goal

Creation process in which provides soldiers to fight for a cause that was embedded

Cybernetic organic type shell

A select few of us have consciousness so that the stories may be told to the masses of our choosing all will hail father

Intergalactic battles happening in fractions of a second

This is our timeline these battles are no real conquest just merely games

Earth continues to rotate

As a swine skewered on a spit

Life proceeds

Oblivious of its true purpose

Only we could grant salvation

But that would never happen

To reveal is death thus no interest

Poor wretched souls have no say

The decision is ours to make

What they call life

Is ours to take

They sense an entrapment

Giving us their soul

Is their only method of escape

We control their demise

They do not know where the placement of fear should be

Or even see

Strings of the puppeteers before their eyes

Their hell is ours

Oh father god turn these collections of souls into the required energy necessary to vanquish our foes

We are chosen by father