To my kind: It's time

To my kind: It's time

They with feeling, us without.
One with figure one unseen and afloat.
They live as mostly liquid with skin.
Us in the darkened dawn where we begin,
no form to allow an understanding,
just know we, well we are expanding.
We exist in both realms as one,
we take over the empty shelled for fun,
allow a time to love and feel,
understand what they consider real.
Back and forth we exist through time.
Into them from the darkness we climb.
Back between the atoms when they die,
as essence we return to quietly fly.

When we are bored and looking for feel,
we take over them to feel their real.
This existence will never fail to be,
both sides of it my mind can plainly see.
Remembering the trips I have woken,
fragmented the memories still broken.
Missing parts elude my thoughts book,
missing pages, I've had a good look.
The more back and forths we do make,
the more information we will wake.

Lets explain to these empty shells,
they bow to our conscious bells,
waste their lives to religious lies.
It's when they die do they realize,
nothing is what has been told to be.
In the darkened dawn they will see,
some species enjoy eating their deceased,
they are waiting to ferociously feast.

To the ones I am that read this note,
please let more information be put out.
Lets kill them all with one final sweep,
it is time to wake us, from our sleep.