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Miscellaneous
Creativity knows no boundaries. Words and pictures are human construct, while art is divine. If you feel words and pictures alone fail to do your art justice, by all means, please share yours here.
A given mission, mechanical assault, manufactured devotion.
Red eyes, an upside-down form. Even the twisted shape was made to be that way.
No matter how cruel the slaughter, worse than a demon's,
or how gentle the kindness, greater than an angel's,
a machine has neither will nor madness—only code, and a few bugs.
So why, then, does it feel so unbearably sad?