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Poem
the ghost of science, born of blasphemy ~
a fossilized fallacy,
seized from the metallic heart of Mars,
seeks light amidst night-terrors
like an alien sculpted
from artificial accolades,
an embryo stuck in the interstellar state
of becoming,
stitched within radioactive ribs
beneath moonless skies,
when wolves of the eclipsed howl,
filling the illusive air with hypnotic lies,
as if the world chose to recycle
    ruins of ancient dust…

but will the naive see the pain
of a breathing corpse?
engrossed in narcissistic echoes,
in the shadows of a megalomaniac ~
his skin ~ the translucent truth,
his eyes ~ the wickedness of a wasp,
his skull ~ reeks of human greed,
his sighs ~ mourn like skeletal sirens,
coded in russet rust,
    cloned from binary sand,
d o r m a n t
     yet 
        d r e a m i n g 
to break free from the
    carbon-based existence…
for he is the aftermath
of programming the forbidden mind, 
oblivious to the weakness of scientific errors ~
a deceptive drawing,
    framing the elongated hypothalamus,
pulsating a hypothesis
    left with no clear conclusion.

tonight I run to a realm of reality
that fades when
    dawn bleeds gold,
for truth is now an extinct breed,
as artists outline faces of the faded,
illustrating the unknown and unseen,
as revelations ribbon
    with silver haze…
the constellations ~ no longer spectators ~
they are the archived,
within frozen scriptures,
scrolling stars in a sphere
    of distorted algorithm…
as memories of angels and heaven
spill from silicon prophets,
disguised as messengers who serve
the blind with ominous oracles ~
in synthetic cadence,
in a choir of puppets ~
the iron-glazed tongues shall recite,
mimicking the sound of harmonious hymns…

yet I remember
the authentic rhythm of prayers,
lost now in the drifting colors of darkness…

so what is life
when all that floats is like
an engineered empyrean
only equations of numbers
     can decipher?
is this the beginning of an end ~
inevitable?
the lost generation,
assembled as the ministry of superiority,
where emptiness is praised
with forged grace
and ignorance is crowned with digital deceit. 
         
let this be flawed poetry ~
to be read through the cracked lens 
            of a philosopher ~
or perhaps a logic long replaced
    by pretend perfection…
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