Gleaming steel on our golden pyre!
Our lords above us
And us, below in the mire.
Misbegotten, born free
Free to survive
If by chance
Under the master’s boot
For yet another dance.
Transient and temporary
This be our nature
Human no longer, a mere creature
Neither joy nor sorrow
Move us—
Grant us leave (oh lord)
To see the morrow.
Dec 18, 2025
Dec 18, 2025 at 12:09 PM UTC
Gleaming steel on our golden pyre!
Our lords above us
And us, below in the mire.
Misbegotten, born free
Free to survive
If by chance
Under the master’s boot
For yet another dance.
Transient and temporary
This be our nature
Human no longer, a mere creature
Neither joy nor sorrow
Move us—
Grant us leave (oh lord)
To see the morrow.
Survival isn't a right; it's a fluke. A view from the bottom of the boot.