Is it better

To live

In the machine of nature

Or

Mans machine?

Authenticity.
Genuineness.
Truth.

Are these
Subjective strivings
Intangible feelings
The keys to one's souls release?

Or can man,
Or has man
With their creations,
Do the same?

Futile.

What is there but
Flashes of happiness
While surviving
An ever approaching

Annihilation.

Man.

Nature.

Both ways
Of
Going about it.

If the iridescent light
Of your iPhone
Brings you the same joy
The suns rays
Or the moons glow does,
What's the difference?

Who's to judge?

Who's cares?

I, being a romantic,
Side with my origins.

I like dirt.

I like rock.

I like the way
Bark is both
Brittle and hard.

Like our ribs,
It protects something
It cannot

Save.

That's why I prefer
Mother Nature's machine:

Her singular gift of life
Is really two.

Life & Death.

And she's always been on Wifi, though

Only a select few

Have the password.