Decompiled

born into imperfection
once flawed but now made
whole cancer's seed
stricken lest we may grow
uncontrolled knowledge's gift brought us
to the edge of oblivion's maw
poised at the lip we taste the poison of our form
a thought kills the mind from which it was born
the quest for release now is itself ...
the disease from greed, we shall engineer
the need unclean, unfit filtered,
reset purity of form that which we've never known
born into imperfection once flawed
but now as whole cancer's seed stricken
so that we may crawl on our own
the gift of knowledge has brought us only despair
poised at the edge of what without thought
we seek the nadir