Mainframe | Dark Techno | Music Video

Описание: Sing, Reason, sing of one who did not roam
By oar or prow the wine-dark ocean wide,
Yet crossed the deeper straits where forms make home,
Where name and thing and self are petrified.

No map he bore, no oracle, no tome,
But turned the shield where truths refuse to hide,
And saw, by glance oblique, what others fear:
That fact is fate when faced too directly here.

He was not crowned by kings, nor sent by Fate
To chart new coasts for empires yet unborn;
His voyage ran through subtler seas of weight,
Where thought itself is broken, fixed, or torn.

There stood the Gorgon, patient at the gate,
Not snarling beast but law the world has sworn:
“Be seen by me, and thou shalt ever be
No more than what thou art, eternally.”

Some fled her gaze and vanished without trace,
For not to meet her is to never stand;
Some met her eyes and froze into a place,
A monument the world can understand.

But he, instructed by no god’s embrace,
Raised polished bronze by careful human hand,
And learned the ancient, dangerous art:
To face the real without surrendering heart.

O subtle courage, rarer than the spear,
That dares approach yet never quite collide;
O mortal trick, misunderstood as fear,
That builds a mirror where the truth can hide.

Through such reflections rise both dome and pier,
The measured law, the city, and the slide
By which wild nature’s power is cut and turned
To tools from which all later fires are burned.

When fell the head, ah, mark this soberly,
The world did not grow gentle, warm, or kind;
Its terror merely changed its custody,
Passed from the wild to disciplined mind.

Thus every age repeats the victory:
To wield what once would shatter or unbind.
And still the stone obeys the ancient rule:
What fixes all may yet become a tool.

So rest now, voyager of inward seas;
No marble bust shall hold thee in its grip.
Thy work is done the moment others see
They, too, may choose the angle of their ship.

Not gods, nor monsters, grant such victories,
Only the nerve to think, to turn, to slip
Between the stare that ends all motion’s flow
And nothingness that dares not even go.