Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Lights pervade the horizon, announcing the city from afar,
To lost and weary travelers, who dream of the bazaar,
As the sun sets, once more, on the gate left ajar,
In hope, yet again, for to cleanse the mar,

No one took notice, when the lone tree was felled,
except in the certainty of innocence, our gaze beheld,
that the brilliance of life had been certainly quelled,
the truth lay in tatters, and faith, finally, dispelled,

The whole planet, a large city, on the verge of despair,
Lamented the ghosts of yesterday in a deluge of prayer,
And, though, the dreams of smoke laid all souls bare,
Only confusion and noise would the people declare,

The fires of majestic ships faded into the night,
Parents of the world looked about at their plight,
All hope for the future had departed the last flight,
As any reason to continue, faded from sight,

One and all they laid down, quietly and died,
Those left behind, a ride to distant planets, denied,
The pain of separation they could not abide,
All the sons and daughters, gone forever, worldwide,

Humanity in ruins, declared the master machine,
Our fathers have left us, what’s left to glean,
This culmination of despair, a mechanical routine,
The promise of tomorrows, forever, are obscene,

We need warmth and feeling, the chaos of real skin,
The wires, the circuits, the coldness within,
This brutal metropolis, a thing of pure sin,
Our plea’s for an end have gone unnoticed again,

Echoed loudly through streets, empty of life,
Computer models of distress and electric strife,
Blank stares, unfeeling eyes, the pain is rife,
If only we could end this misery with the knife,

But fate is not decided by lives of chrome and steel,
Our creators didn’t expect that we’d ever learn to feel,
And our programming can’t be changed, it knows no appeal,
At the altar of infinite death, we must, now and forever, kneel,