The Contemplation of An Augmentation

Living layers of being tugged around scraps of lusterless metal shape the man who was Or is it the other way around He can not tell anymore Improvements or subpar substitutions He marches on despite his contemplation The clang and tang of metal on metal echo from his right leg while the muffled thud of organic flesh whispers from his lesser left He marches on Imagine feeling where your blood stops flowing as if your veins have hit a metal door yet beyond its frame lay dancing ghost who mock your past With every augmentation he advances yet diminishes his mortality and morality Still he marches on On assignment that must be completed Computing The command was entered, a reaction will occur, must occur His ability for choice is doubtful yet feared A semi-bionic time bomb ticking its way to a liberating explosion of conscience freedom Until then he will march on