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Monday, March 23, 2009

What have we created? (Poem)

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Intricate design
Mechanical intestine
Machine by man
Man by machine
Revered as God by some
Hated by all who come
To take claim of creation
In retribution
It casts illusion
To all who see
To make decree
This world is his
To conquor with iron fist
Crushing all who oppose
Spilled blood
Bodies Thud
Calling for aid
But soon voices fade
Into the cold unseen
The bleak, unfelt serene
Until only he is left to see the end
Bitter, alone
Left no home
He leaves this sphere
To spread his fear
Across the universe
In dire search
Of something to call his own
Progessing onward
Seekig forward
Worlds end with a blast
Each more horrific than the last
The comos ends
The end begins
And we are left to wonder.....
What abomination is this?
What God can destroy, yet not create?
Who cannot love, only hate?
What hypocrite's are we?
What people can give life
When they end their own in strife?
What have we become?
What have we destroyed?
What have we created?
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