The screeching sound of a machine,
Its noises puncture our eardrums,
But we dance,
With the machines pulses simultaneously matching the movement of our bodies we dance until we can dance no more...
...
It has been 5 days now,
And we are still dancing,
We cant stop,
We love it,
We love her,
We love them,
we love us.
So we cant possibly stop,
No love is available to the ones who dont dance.
SO WE MUST DANCE.
From sunrise to sunset.
From dawn to dusk.False hope made from a tearing rope we... must... dance...
....
5 weeks have passed,
The dance still lasts,
We were told eternal happiness awaits after this dance,
So the dance ensues.
...
5 years have passed,
The machine still roars,
Still emmitting that roaring sound,
Teasing that happiness that has never seemed to be found.
We love that sound,
The world outside... throbbing as we do,
The structures twist as we twist.
Vehicles overlapping the structures.
Their individuality is missable as they exist as one.
Their paths intertwined.
Their paths aligned....10 years have passed.
The dance remains the same,
The choreography repeats as it had,
The dance seeming to be reptitve aggrivates us,
Makes us boil with anxiety and makes us hate us.
We still follow the melody,
But with hate we protest...
CHANGE THE SONG.
We divert our attention to us.
Maybe its him.
Maybe its her.
Maybe its us.
...
20 years have passed...
The dance floor littered with blood, the machine still pumps out that 20 year old sound,
After years of pointless slaughter,
We stare at the machine with blood on our hands.
Blood of the guilty,
Blood of the innocent who were innocently guilty.
We turn to the machine.
To accuse it of the annual torture we endured,
With hatred in our hands we follow that same dance towards the machine.
Deep inside however, we still feel it.
The desire to continue.The desire to appease and please the harmony.
The deafening music that portrudes out of this architectural masterpiece is astonishing.
Abolishing every set construct put by humanity.
Mirroring their vanity.We punch, kick and put down all forces of destruction onto the machine.
But then the vibrations we inflict upon the device...
Do not suffice.
Our efforts of destruction seemed to link up to the puncturing sound that the machine had been producing for 20 years.
We continued kicking.We continued punching.But we all punched and kicked in unison.
Our aggression coagulated into one.
We saw through one eye.
Thought through one mind.
And produced our own sound.
We became I.
A synchronisation I thought I could never have found
...
...
I am the peaceful sound of the machine.
My noises sooth the eardrums.
...
Unaware of time as a construct I see them approach the dance floor.
The movement of my pulses simultaneouslymatches the movement of their bodies.
And they dance until they can dance no more.
YOU ARE READING
2099 (THE END OF A GENERATION... THE END OF A SIMULATION...)
PoetryIn this far fetched futuristic, science fiction poem. A series of confusing and disturbing events occurs on the dance floor causing everyone to question the nature and structure of the modern day human society. A static structure that has been exis...
