2011/01/30

Emergent - 2011/01/30

Crawling across a sun drenched basin
Quips of silence are the only sounds
Amongst this boneyard of those great
As spectres avoid the sacred grounds
Black iron corpses line laid asphalt
Marks on maps within memory imparted
A destination in mind past the route
Throughout doom of those now charted

Dry winds bellow as a blizzard comes
During which the priority is shelter
The runners return with new supplies
For there is no more time to skelter
The good of group drives the pistons
Of the machine that eternally exists
Even while changes bring disruptions
A strong upkeep allows it to persist

Time ticks by yet it is not measured
In this foreign world of dry fantasy
For those relics stranded far behind
Exist based on narcissistic travesty
Alas a future once fought marches on
Against anthropoids disturbingly mad
Leaving only the meek to ride a wave
That works to cleanse a virulent fad

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