Wielding together artificial meat
No need to conserve this being will keep
Looking through grafted eyes
The creator now smiles
Shamelessly looking at bones made of lies
Once it is born does it speak with a tongue?
Calling out hopefully, am I the one?
It started out walking it skipped all the steps
Its power lacked knowledge deceived by the best
Slaying with anger the others were dust
Running in circles pain filled with must
Confronting the master to find what he was
Hoping to live, but then again who does?
Copyright © John Paluszek