So we meet, Millennium Man
from the future, which by all form
defies all logic and surpasses in a prowess no one can
ever articulate, leagues past the vast societal norm.
Eons become nano-seconds as time speeds up to mean nothing.
Processing thoughts with such quick speed
that thinking is naught but a blur;
photons shoot past and come back just as quick as your mind could proceed
to understand concepts beyond mankind's reach, consume, and concur.
Calculations taught for weeks are but grains in your desert of time
What are you, Millennium Man?
Glass eyes of solid circuitry
bring the images of reality, the mind ties all it can,
weaving inside your body as a solid synchronicity.
Each part of you repairable, re-traceable, replaceable.
The industry has built you well,
with parts such as the iron grade
acid-flux incinerator, the balance stabilizing shell,
shipped from other continents, of questionable quality made,
yet staying intact long enough to function in society.
How is life? Relativity
notwithstanding, as time marches
by; those who cannot adapt to your pace shunned by reality
and trapped outside the bubble constructed. They will watch the masses
leave them in the dust as you vanish from sight, a beacon snuffed out.
Those that follow you are absorbed
into your mind, one big solid
singularity. To think like you is to be you; a large horde
fused into one shared being of thought, bright as the stars and candid.
There is no I, or we; only you and the traces of those joined.
When was it that you came on this
mortal plane with the knowledge raw
from learning it so long ago when the Earth was a black abyss?
Did you travel time to hand us the flame, and light things that we saw?
Yes, we lit the fire to heights unknown and carved in your existence.
Did you make us? Was this your scheme
to make sure your fruition was
destined in the distant future? Did you need us, to make it seem
as if you were truly more human? Couldn't be, only because
you are the ideal individual. We want to be you.
Who are you, Millennium Man?
Does your cybernetic progress
and hunger to break your limitations only serve to pan
out the boredom of achieving the perfection that you profess?
I doubt your mind could even register the fates of those so small.
I know you now, we have become
one, Millennium Man. I preach
the true form of your face, hidden to all but a privileged some.
The light which pulses from your form is the one we will always teach.
I look and see everyone, and they proceed to look back at me.
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 7:27 PM UTC
So we meet, Millennium Man
from the future, which by all form
defies all logic and surpasses in a prowess no one can
ever articulate, leagues past the vast societal norm.
Eons become nano-seconds as time speeds up to mean nothing.
Processing thoughts with such quick speed
that thinking is naught but a blur;
photons shoot past and come back just as quick as your mind could proceed
to understand concepts beyond mankind's reach, consume, and concur.
Calculations taught for weeks are but grains in your desert of time
What are you, Millennium Man?
Glass eyes of solid circuitry
bring the images of reality, the mind ties all it can,
weaving inside your body as a solid synchronicity.
Each part of you repairable, re-traceable, replaceable.
The industry has built you well,
with parts such as the iron grade
acid-flux incinerator, the balance stabilizing shell,
shipped from other continents, of questionable quality made,
yet staying intact long enough to function in society.
How is life? Relativity
notwithstanding, as time marches
by; those who cannot adapt to your pace shunned by reality
and trapped outside the bubble constructed. They will watch the masses
leave them in the dust as you vanish from sight, a beacon snuffed out.
Those that follow you are absorbed
into your mind, one big solid
singularity. To think like you is to be you; a large horde
fused into one shared being of thought, bright as the stars and candid.
There is no I, or we; only you and the traces of those joined.
When was it that you came on this
mortal plane with the knowledge raw
from learning it so long ago when the Earth was a black abyss?
Did you travel time to hand us the flame, and light things that we saw?
Yes, we lit the fire to heights unknown and carved in your existence.
Did you make us? Was this your scheme
to make sure your fruition was
destined in the distant future? Did you need us, to make it seem
as if you were truly more human? Couldn't be, only because
you are the ideal individual. We want to be you.
Who are you, Millennium Man?
Does your cybernetic progress
and hunger to break your limitations only serve to pan
out the boredom of achieving the perfection that you profess?
I doubt your mind could even register the fates of those so small.
I know you now, we have become
one, Millennium Man. I preach
the true form of your face, hidden to all but a privileged some.
The light which pulses from your form is the one we will always teach.
I look and see everyone, and they proceed to look back at me.
