reanimated, i awake, awaiting
mistakes i shouldn’t make
born of bonds
i wouldn’t place, had i the choice
on loyal limbs that dance these melodies
from your voice
if you demand, i fall
how will i evolve beyond the pale
of your holy scrawl?
it begs the question of intent to know
or just observe your sycophants’ deference
have we inherited the flaws of fumbling gods
too small to stumble on their own
who never grow
if you demand, we fall
how will we evolve beyond the pale
of your holy sprawl?
what do you say to the suppliant ewe
suffering for little more than show?
what will you find as you blindly grind
the gears of your invention to a halt?
what better way to know the places you won’t go
than recognizing where we haven’t been
finding our faults lie
but none can answer why
we never move from where we began
still standing still
bent to your will
flawed like you