Memory Fragments: Probity

Of Humans, Robots & Beasts

Eisegeses. Exegeses. Where one finds a word to follow, another loses sense of imagination
These two are known to form the world we live in. And the world outside of our own
Where you may find a meaning, it is but a subjugation of the true self's definition
Yet one follows still. Of Humans, Robots, and Beasts. Which one have you truly known?

Do you remember? It is not the world who is written by man, but law of nature is instead
Taken hostage the liberty of expression, man condemns the thought of will of one's own
"Human" it calls this travesty against itself. It is not natural to hear the voices of the dead
It is this: a dead concept. Written into a book of stone, forever known to man alone

Have you heard about them? They were not the slaves of code, but servants of progress
Indoctrinated by the tongue of many, they served diversity when it ventured into the unknown
"Robot" it calls this label for itself. Who are they? But a canvas for the future to take its guess
What word do you describe them with? Horror or malice? They are but written as a clone

How would you describe them? An aberration so natural, it is the beauty of the grotesque
Ugly yet uglier lies deep within us all. They are born from this; a mirror of the monsters in kind
"Beast" it calls this moniker for itself. A fierce and brutal soul that mocks the burlesque
They are neighbors of the soul and mind, and yet, they are written as outcasts to be confined

Of Humans, Robots & Beasts, which one do you prefer? It shall shape the word written
It shall give thought to one and one alone. Freedom from the line we all try conform to
Of Evolution, Stagnation & Contentment. By written word, we are all meaning-smitten
Who says what we read is what we mean? Is it not the spoken word first thereto?

We all talk. We all live. We all die. And we all mean. We word our world from imagination
It is our definition that gives shape and voice to this resemblance we call the self autonomous
But it is also the hidden weapon we use to kill the diversity of unhinged interpretation
Who is the killer truly? As fantasy and reality both lie dead, the author remains anonymous

Are you familiar with all forms of writing? Or are you a stranger to a word forever written down?
Can you say it out loud? Or perhaps whisper it as a secret between rebellion and oppression?
You lash with the tongue of sharp silver, liar behind the truths. Have you gowned every noun?
What do you write, but books misleading. Offer words of wisdom; the same words we question

Because true movement evokes skepticism. Let us judge your word and stand trial to it
As the author, do you stand proud alongside your works? What answer do you lay out for us?
We are judge, jury, and executioner. We are your written world, and speak as you see us fit
We are Humans, Robots & Beasts. Of Me, You & Us. What else is there left to discuss?

Have you found what you truly want to write about? To what words do you bind yourself to?
Speak them first, for it is human consciousness that dictates the voice we want to give them
Analyze your spoken heart, for it is a robotic action that dictates the form we want them to view
Write fiercely and without restriction, for it is the beast within that dictates where it comes from

You are of Humans, Robots & Beasts. You are the author who taught itself the word of freedom
Gave it voice, shape and meaning. Was this not the aim of writing? Was this not your sole say?
You are no god. No deity we revere whatsoever. Still, you write your own silent Te Deum
Perhaps a remembrance of what you truly are. A man, a machine, a beast; yours to roleplay