National Day of Robotic Maintenance

Your story, main character, and world
Talked to me, to the elders of my tribe,
During an elusive era where simple
Silhouettes walk on a desert’s horizon,
Searching to settle near a fruitful oasis,
And when books were written to
Commemorate our legends, they were
Suffocated to never reveal the rightful heir,
(to a scorching throne buried in quicksand)
Yet, after decades of silence the glorious
Book was resurrected in a classical concert,
Soon to be confiscated, burnt, and our
Whispering hearts to be forever silenced,
Now, we are but drones awaiting the
National Day of Robotic Maintenance.

Advertisements

Split in Two

I
Outstretching a hand to a falling leaf,
A farewell ritual dancing with the breeze,
Purifying the land for its soft touches,
Commemorating our distant smiles,
And further, further it continues to leave,
So, I chose to quickly pick it up and hold it,
Sending all my warmth to its inner core,
Tending to its many complex arid cracks,
Some were so deep and beyond repair,
And even as close as I can be I am still –
Still unsure of my ability to intervene,
All I can do is allow Time to heal itself.

II
And whilst I dream about a surreal era,
Where cracks flawlessly diffuse forever,
Where I await mine to be softly tended,
Or at least to be acknowledged; at least,
Another decides to ride the whispers
Of a warm wind guiding a silent nomad,
Which sounds so elegantly majestic,
And yet, it leaves behind a heavy mirage,
Silence becomes my natural remedy,
Still unsure of my ability to intervene,
All I can do is allow Time to heal itself.

Fighting for Her

The one in a billion being brought to light
In a dark era where many bark and bite,
And a passer-by noted the infringement
Of the laws in a dystopian society,
And he saw the predators hunting the wounded angel,
Now that Time has shown a different face
Discharging electrical shocks that shocked his mind beyond repair,
And he tried to stand firm against dust storms
Crippling the minds of pure beings,
She was indeed falsely accused, involuntarily resurrected,
And I have sworn to evacuate this polluted era
Such that she may feel alive, at least once, by me,
An objective and a burden I carry until I succeed,
For she is one in a billion brought to light in a dark era.