"Cold feet, wash stones. Revolving eyes, a paradox of. Recite. Prime. Ye, who fade the fog into light, forgive. Transient fish. Bearable. May this day reach into eternity and bring back its rewards. Fruitful. Your absence is the void. A dirt hole, treacherous and hidden. Tucked away with the inhalings of the pulse. Ye who fade the denim and drip the tank, bring us our morning. Pack dream night. A pleasant countdown. Hairless body."
Litany #4 - BOOK OF TITICACA

"Since that ever-one day, in the sands, on the western fringe of Poklax. I saw the ships circling before the one descended. I notified the ministry and illustrated my vision. No mistaking. No believing. Hooked. I let them block my fingerprints and erase my name in exchange. Unloaded my possessions on hoppers. Cut my citizen card to bits. I'm on their employ. Tap their resources and send daily reports. Nothing.

Mornings and afternnons I spend at the desert patch of first contact. I extract nectar from the root, mix it with buds and hallucinate. I've seen nothing and it is the finest sight of all. Amazing silence. Reptile tonguing it. Nights are much too dangerous. Copters fly low, they bathe an ocean of light, their mission is a do-good, but the way they go about it is a violation, a nerve-prick. They will not let the sky be still. 'What better place to find the truth?' Their slogan reads. They spread their wiry, metal arms over the city like it needs a hug! No passsage too deep in their 100-vex radius."
EXCERPT FROM: ACCOUNTS OF THE PROPHETS - "SENTINEL" PROPHET BEEL