Man can create a mechanical heart he can Discard the organs for synthetic parts

then he Programs the mind


And he thickens the skin


They resemble humans but

Their not your friends


They are drones


Without meaning

They are fakes


Without reason


They know all the motions and don't deviate

They are slaves


To false idols


They are cowards

Bound by fear


They think far too long


And feel way too late





Creator of death






Reign down


On us

May you stand on A grave of our bones


Our thoughts


ideas

No one will mourn your death






Do these gears have a pulse


A blood that flows of the revolt

Do they create with love but design with this hate






Man can build a face that never frowns but does it understand the reason of its smile






Cold hands and warm hearts

Hold steady, stay the course


Coarse of action


That led us all to here

Madman took the wheel to steer





nothing will be left to remember the mistake





We are the disconnected

We are the disconnect





We aren't machines