Tale of the Robotic sand worms

Sit around the camp fire lads, tonight be it a tale of sorrow and unbound freedom.
For your enjoyment, tis a tale to be told through form of poetic prose,

Trapped in chains the wild worm sings
a deep and shaking bellow,
a song that tears at the edges of the earth
the giant worm, in pain eternal
cries for solice, in his dark solitude

As he lies, bound by chains
he sings his tale
a song of fear
a song of hate

Many years ago did the black birds fly
flew they did above earths sight,
flying through space they flew
like swimming feathered fiends
through space and sky they fly

worms o hiding in the ground
find you soon, through shrieks of sound!
we birds of clamour, birds of DEATH!
the birds circled the earth,
centuries of birds and hundreds of planning
crying like demons, shrieking

the worms lay still, in their resting burrows
eating earth, devouring tunnels
unaware, that soon their end be made
by feathered fiends

Birds circle, through novas and time
untrue existence, born through hate
birds that were strong, in surreal energy
cursed were their calls, blackened their names
to crush and devour
control and destroy
their only desire

millenia of uninterrupted process,
worms that were once young,
now old
grow and tunnel,
and they die, to create more earth,
and thus it continues

celestial creatures, the worms
falling through their own ectoplasmic ridicule
the ancient seer worm, a mighty beast
with feathers ornamental, he sat upon his throne
his mind clambering through time and space
he sees

but black birds
hidden and despicable
unseen by the seer of all
possibly impossible,
to see all and not to see
the demons born of hatred
and unreliable promise
of pretencious eternity
none lay bare, weighed down by vain colossus

Birds descended
worms retented
all lifes gaze
gone
life shut out
by ethereal birds
controlling minds, controlling fear
eating the souls of the ones to bear
and creeping shadows
of pain and spite
swimming through the tunnels,
made by epic worm might

the birds consumed, and through their consumption
they materialized,
sudden fluctuations
flowed through worm nations
unstable energy, disturbing
interrupting the process,
worms died off, immortal as they were
one can always have the power to destroy ones self
this power abused by the birds
created their own existence

the final worm
lying on the pit of his own existence
no further down could he dig, he had reached the end
his cries, his song
to be heard and responded, only by the birds that destroyed his race

the seer gathered what was left of his might,
released it all, released his rage
his sadness, he released the truth
no process was eternal, all was eternal
all if in the void of nothing recurring indefinetly

the birds after a millenia of gluttonous life
orgies and laziness, they fed off the now passed worms work
unaware of the final beast, lying next to death
releasing his final redemption

the seers song was almost finished,
his mind began to flow once more,
with vision
with memory
and with memory, came hate
the hate boiled so strongly

the planet shook, the birds took flight
shocked, caught unaware the ground cracked and erupted
pure energy flowing from the seer to the ends of infinity
the birds were incinerated, their material bodies turned to ash
their spirits, still bound to the void that was life
returned, as all energy does
to the flow

The seers final action sewed the seeds
of yet another loop, process of recurrence
on a scale so large, unfathomable to those within
as are all things, part of one loop,
that is part of a larger loop
lost in infinity
the seer died, as his last vision was as far as comprehension could be.