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All things to all men.
Take me to two thousand words.
And send me in orbit so fast.
Tannhauser Gate bound.
Blade Runner esque times ahead.
Paradise on fire.
Azathoth Apr 2019
Our paths have finally intercrossed,
I can see the apprehension on your face,
In another version of this story I would tell you that these moments will be lost,
But there is no sad music,
No tears upon your face,
Time does not stand still for us this time,
But living for me is still a crime,
I had a love that held me at night,
And you do too,
But she was killed in your fight,
Just like the rest of my crew,
We could have exchanged that moment on that roof that seemed to scrape the heavens,
But this isn't my time to recite poetry and talk about the way we have been fending,
And you've killed almost seven,
So if I must die in such a way,
Know that you could have been the one to put this to an ending.
From Roy Baty's POV to Deckard in Do Androids Dream
Azathoth Apr 2019
Find me,
Find me,
In the television screen,
Find me,
Find me,
In an androids dream,
Counting sheep as the hours tick by,
Counting sheep and wanting to die,
Cause i can't,
Sleep anymore,
I can't sleep anymore.
A small poem based off of Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep
Azathoth Apr 2019
The night holds me in her foggy embrace,
As I walk down this ***** alley,
It feels like someone else's tears are upon my face,
I dreamt music so sweet,
When she kissed my lips,
And we waltzed round the room.
She laid on my chest,
Listened to my heart beat,
Asked me if I ever dreamed,
When she was near the unknown ceased to loom,
She wasn't able to,
She only had memories of green.
In the back of my mind,
I know we don't have much time,
The unicorn that was left for me was a sign,
Suppose Rachael and I will go north,
To a place no one can find.
What I do know,
Is that I finally have something to call mine.
This is from Deckards point of view in the movie "Blade Runner" 1982.
AvengingPoet Sep 2014
The contemplative arm movements of the beast
Are killing the little spirit leftover
Of an already jaded man

But they tell him he is afraid
And that he never gave the chances it deserved
“That can’t be right, that can’t be right,” he yells

His alphabet is falling over
Like the building blocks of the machine
The movements of the beast, the movements of the beast…

The dream did indeed have him
And he began to curl up into his ball
Handed to him by the trickery down there

Dark, quiet nights of walking alone
On those contemplative streets
Where everything felt right and wrong

All he wanted to do was write some fictions
But they slowed him down
The beast was killing him

Tears in rain, Tears in rain…

— The End —