Machinations embody the
presence of the modern air—
Yet, take away impulse
And they all just fill
space with their cold grey stares
Between blood and
flesh exists a soul
One to which only one
can truly control
And despite the
distractions that comprise the voids
It breathes, it feels,
it lives
Although forgotten,
Amongst this flood of
technological divide
Constructing patterns
that adhere to path
Cannot find
deliverance through wires alone
One must bite beneath
the waves of efficiency
Unplug to find the
gifts granted
When mankind first
began
