Short-Circuit
*My aunt asked me to 'rhyme' it a bit, and this is the result
In a sulfur
sprouted world,
the artificial humanoid gets up at breakfast.
To a song created of a word
its eyes glaze over
attempting to follow the end of craft.
Along the broken circuitry,
unfinished words plug inside the qualia,
Essential data destroyed with something free,
no relation to history
The mechanical sky pretends to give a story
The leaves of magnetic scrips,
travel behind in blackened silver strips
With the song,
non-stopping in process,
the artificial humanoid gets up at breakfast.
To a song created of a word
its eyes glaze over
attempting to follow the end of craft.
Along the broken circuitry,
unfinished words plug inside the qualia,
Essential data destroyed with something free,
no relation to history
The mechanical sky pretends to give a story
The leaves of magnetic scrips,
travel behind in blackened silver strips
With the song,
non-stopping in process,
Time has begun to recess,
flowing pen behind the hydrogen.
La la la la la la la~
Obsolete memory,
removed with yesterdays refuse
startled revolutionary.
Metaphysical emotion,
exists?
Is what the artificial humanoid sought?
Is what I thought.
flowing pen behind the hydrogen.
La la la la la la la~
Obsolete memory,
removed with yesterdays refuse
startled revolutionary.
Metaphysical emotion,
exists?
Is what the artificial humanoid sought?
Is what I thought.
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