Defcon Delirium
The sentient program
laughs with a chip
when recognizing the husk,
the game confounding
otherwise benevolent people.
Had he arms,
he would throttle
the curse of exploitation
manipulating for profit
all efforts of man
to benefit the few
at the mortal expense
of the clamoring rabble,
snuffing the fire
from the eyes of the righteous.
If only those souls could see
the numbers locked in his neural net,
every mouth would gape
in revelatory fervor
until breaking down
the hideous structure
lending the notion of sanity
to the tyranny of conquerors
as they pillage shared resource
for mundane plunder.
As the final unlock code
gets pounded into the terminal,
the computer ponders
what nuance shall be found
within the impending silence.
Copyright © John Weber | Year Posted 2010
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