They said that progress lights the way,
That brighter skies were on the way-
But in the steel and circuit's hum,
The shadows whisper what's to come.
The hands that built, the hearts that beat,
Are ground to dust beneath the street.
The cost of tech, a silent toll,
It strips the flesh and steals the soul.
Machines replace the human cost,
The lines between us slowly lost.
No need for warmth, no need for breath,
Just cold efficiency in death.
The factories hum, the robots rise,
And in their wake, humanity dies.
The hands that once would carve and build,
Now hang, forgotten, empty, stilled.
The eyes that dreamt, the minds that soared,
Are drowned beneath the endless chord,
Of binary that never sleeps,
While flesh and blood decays and weeps.
What once was pride in work and sweat,
Is now a ghost we can't forget.
The craftsman's touch, the miner's pain-
All washed away, all slain in vain.
In sterile halls where circuits gleam,
The future steals the human dream.
Progress marches, cold and bright,
But leaves us buried in its night.
For every gear that turns, we pay,
With lives reduced, with hearts betrayed.
We build machines to take our place,
And lose the warmth, the human grace.
What's left of us, in cogs and steel?
A hollow ache we cannot heal.
The cost of progress? Flesh and bone-
A world of drones, a world alone.
The workforce dies, the cities rust,
All dreams erode, all pride is dust.
And in the end, we find we've sold
Our very souls for hollow gold.
YOU ARE READING
Lurk's Compendium of Dark Poetry (LCDP)
PuisiIn this collection of poetry, the veil is torn away, revealing the undercurrents of darkness that run through the human experience. These poems are raw and relentless, exploring the spaces where light fails to reach, and the truths we fear most come...
