surveyed the land before me— 

The dust rose as my eyes settled.

Resting heartbeat slow,

Barely sensing a pulse in the afterglow. 

 

It was a lie.

It was a perfect dystopia.

 

I couldn't understand— 

Or maybe I could,

But I forced the meaning

Way below the surface.

 

Or maybe I stayed

Surface-aware—  

The depths of truth

Frightening in realization.

 

This mechanical feeling,

Virtually unpleasant

As I wait in anticipation— 

Unforgiven by this reality.

 

It's an internal loop, a coded flaw— 

Hardwired to care,

Hardwired to notice imperfection

And still embrace the beauty.

 

t's a torn beauty,

Marked by decay.

It's a world breaking down—  

The machines forming new shapes.

 

Tie a ribbon around humanity.

Wrap our sins for condemnation.

 

Does our flesh

Define our vulnerability?

Does our grey matter

Define our rationality?

 

My pause toward possibility,

My mind warped by desire—  

The perception of the future

In a cloud of poison rain.

 

Dust rolls in deeper,

Storms penetrate horizons—  

Maybe automatic mode

Would heal this overthinking.

 

The lure of comfortability—  

But at what cost?

And is that scale weighted

By waging negativities?

 

t's a maze of consciousness,

A wandering through the stars.

It's a trail leading nowhere—  

A painstaking path to relate.

 

There's red tape around my heart— 

Delicate destruction on every concept of home.

 

Can we form a more perfect world?

Is there a more perfect way to see?

Can you truly perceive me

As I break to console and perceive you?

 

There's a fight to understand

Our lack of communication.

There's a breakdown of why

In my efforts to repair.

 

This world burning beautiful

Embraces such violent delights.

We'll mirror minds left blank— 

Challenge our creation measures.

 

Hearts break relentlessly— 

This burden knows no shame.

Boundaries are unknown,

Impartiality seizing the weak.

 

There's a trigger in the tension.

There's a soulless sympathy.

There's an open cavity

Flooded by conviction.

 

There's a fluid feeling of surrender

Manipulating a synthetic energy.

A shade of a person fires with accusation,

Arguing what freedom could be.

 

Can this chaos be ribbon-wrapped?

Driven toward a brighter reality?

Clear skies breathe potential

While steps seem programmed ahead.