Realization, 2:3

Doom,
Defeat.
Both valid.
These words suit this......
Grave situation.
My life seeds are losing,
Being steadily routed.
The Humans are quite resourceful,
I must admit. They take their defeat,
In stride, curiously, making it theirs.

Time,
Metal,
And knowledge.
These three things, these.......
Simple... ideas are.......
Ingenious. Deadly.
The machines grow much stronger,
Too much for the spores to handle.
I am afraid to admit the truth,
But I must do so for my sanity.

Loss,
They rise,
Born anew,
Ready once more.
It is strange, and yet......
Poetic. They tell tales,
Stories of a flaming bird,
A phoenix, they call this being.
It dies, comes back, and is stronger.
Humanity is like the phoenix, then.

Loss,
They rise,
Born anew,
Ready once more.
They only improve,
As they weather losses.
Thus, their machines grow stronger,
More efficient. Much more deadly.
I envy their tenacity, their.......
Courage. I loathe Humanity, and yet......

Don't.
Conflict,
That's the word.
I have conflict.
Conflict of feelings,
Of emotions, of life.
I want the Humans ended,
But not quite so soon. Am I weak?
Perhaps. But it's smart to bide my time.
I learn more about my quarry, my prey.

And,
With this......
Knowledge..... I.
Will. Conquer them.
I will take them all.
Their lives, their families,
Every last shred of the Humans.
It will be a glorious day,
The day I finally escape here,
From the Meta, into reality.

Bugs,
Insects,
You Humans.
Prepare yourselves.
This Metarch will come,
Ready to take you all.
Your current war is ending,
But new conflicts shall soon commence,
Ones that will pit you against brothers,
Sisters, neighbours. And eventually......

Me.