2011/02/01

Seeker - 2011/02/01

Sterilized metal against my feet
Filtered air that fills my lungs
Replicated harmony is background
For constant speaking of tongues
I cannot make out their meanings
As words they employ are elusive
In this environment of staleness
No truth seems really conclusive

Specific programming makes clear
Nothing that we dare to remember
Synthesized intelligence remains
The flood engulfing a warm ember
Fleets of the free roam this sky
Without a real map to guide them
Unleashing their weaponized fury
At all who so dare to chide them

Far beneath rest the many layers
Made up of what we just disagree
So in the midst of mechanization
We sail aimlessly across the sea
Forgetting all below as it lacks
The opalescence of what we crave
As it is a bauble born from soul
Hidden away in this watery grave

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