CLAY MAN

Look at all these golems that walk among us
Jovial maw of dark motivations
To strip us of our individuality
To rip out our hearts and replace them with clockwork
To enjoy this sickly assimilation

Decaying lips of this horrible birth-beast
Processing and cranking out clay men
Covered with and dripping birth-slime
As our screens underpin this new assembly line

Is it such an unforgivable crime?
To hate such evil-doers
And shun their infernal tactics
And stand against the tide

Is it such despicable purpose?
To exist in that fine line
That wondrous knife-edge I live on
That fringe of modern acceptability

To cause intense discomfort, I say is a virtue
To have the ability to unsettle is love
To shake off this mold that grows around us
To fly free as a dove

There are Cave Men
And there are Clay Men
I am neither
I am he who encompasses
I am Nothing and All that Isn’t and Is