The Machine

Once was a man who loved with all of his heart But it was because of that love that made him more dark A darkness unlike any night and void of its depth Then like a cocoon of baby spiders it crept all through his flesh For the world was his passion so bright and so green But another man had different dreams that created the machine And although accomplishment was to his hearts content He gave it to idled hands unaware of consequence They began exploiting the weak as they took what they pleased The world became frightful, poor, and diseased One mans hymn of praise became another mans curse As thy flesh fed the machine and his blood quenched its thirst While the street became flooded from tears of the damned The gutters overfilled with uprisings and demands But the ones that were in power refused to be overthrown So the weak destroyed the machine and thus everyones home For the hands that built it knew nothing of the dream And the ones who controlled it cared for nothing it conceived The head and hands need a mediator and it must be thy heart Or the world will bare witness to a civilization torn apart ~ JJF ~ “A great civilization is not conquered from without until it has destroyed itself from within.” ~ Ariel Durant ~