Listen to poem:
Metropolis Ii of Iii
Haunted by its simplistically,
All the masses work for nothing,
Power drones I watch the meek alone.
Bare white the afterglow.
Power of blackened glass reaching for the zenith.
To touch the face of creation.
The masses must toil as I do in this Leviathan.
A Silicon made oblivion.
Thump and hum,
Cold white light in these aged eyes,
Once sky blue now blind in my inner mind.
Now only the passing stare she dares,
I hear the data in the cathode-ray tubes scream,
Cold is this light, I watch it fall in oblique patterns.
On the pavement of a city ordered in chaos.
I feel this thump and hum deep in my soul.
The shadow hangs there,
I see rays of an abandoned SON…
TO BE CONTINUED...
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