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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required What is it that makes us human ? It's not something you can program, you can't put it into a micro chip. It's the strength of the human heart; the difference between us and machines. Terminator Salvation. J Brancato & M Ferris. History will be scrawled by the victorious and the past rewritten curious paper shattered print in the arenas of a deceits convenience careless in the blood ink of a mutilated populace slicing the throat of humanity is the killing off of Jesus Behind the blue sky sterile mask no-one smiles the streets filled with lies and the eyes of duty performance and self-righteousness bring their cavalcade carnival of unthinking sufferance These days are stranger than the times we need these are the strangest days indeed the worst we could have thought of or even dreamed as this unfolding programs narrative came to be Our future being written by a ghoulish credit demon trailing egocentric evil in its wake as our souls become the medium of transaction autonomy being shrink-wrapped to the taste of a birthday cake Should we see too much of our unity revealing the weakness in all their schemes but be prey to our narcissistic endangerment's and leave this indolence of a questionable gift to our next generations inheritance A war is being waged against the prisoners the mad media circus of insanely perilously incorrect shall confusion and its fear of my god what's happening here rule our hearts and this miracle instead Is life just the physics of a scientists economic dream is living merely a part in the cogs of a machine have we lost all faith in connection and the great universal design are we sleeping in the dread quagmire of our minds This dystopian science-fiction movie quoted from a book becomes a present day reality in which no-one dares to look we are falling by the wayside on evolution's road because there's nothing left but money to pay the futures banknote Stranger than the days we need these strange days indeed the looming air of poisons currency its one world or its government as terror becomes the god we all hold in disrespectful reverence while life and love become the Christmas cake shrink-wrapped trinket pinned to a hopeful shelf A stranger in our blood indeed these times we do not need these are the strangest days of humanities decent to the pits of fabricated Hades the worst we could have thought of none of us even dreamed of as this unfolding programs narrative slipped its oily noose around us and came to be
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