The Death of ARCHON887

We were ready for It
In those Olde days
Something
Anything to take us away
From the Burden of
Togetherness

No talking, No empathy
No reason to care
The Screens held our Faces
and Hearts
Downward
pointed at the Earth
Dull, Brown, Uninteresting.

Swiping our Fingers
We cleared our Minds
of Care, of Knowledge
of Fellowship

So
Deaf, Dumb and Confused
We became Slaves to the Machine
Reason gave way to Panic
Resourcefulness to Convenience
Cities fell
Societies burned

All the while
We slide our Fingers
and smiled the Idiot smile
of the Insane
led to Their Execution

Insanity proved to be Our Salvation
in the Smallest and Darkest Corners
of the Tech Hives
The Prisoners of the Machine
Tore their Eyes from their Heads
Wept Bloody Tears
and began the Slow Crawl
back to the Sunlight

Even before
The Wire-Sages and The Circuit-Priests
Began Prophesying our Return
The Children of Terra
began to cast out The Machine

Sold their lives Dearly
against the Technofortresses
The weighty press of Bodies
Bending down Razor-wire
to form a Breach for Those Behind
Hands of Flesh and Blood
Tore the Circuitry from the Nodes

The dawning of a New Age
Heralded with the Death-Rattle of
an Artificial Intelligence

About Eric

Writer/Plumber/Poet/Father/Gentleman/Romantic
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