We Will be Cyborgs

*frowns* Bleeding dictionary/spell checker. Does anyone know what one calls the land owned by a marquis or marchioness? Random question, but I desire alliteration in the third line of this poem!

As for the poem.... The point being, two people in love so deeply that they grow into the future, and watch the world fall, but eternally stay together and love each other. Blah. I'm hopeless. Dedicated to Kamilove, aka Mike, for reasons rather obvious, to those who have any business knowing why there are reasons at all. Also, I suppose, to the spiritually half-robots in my life- there are two- in hopes that, in the future, we all will be cyborgs. ^_^


In the future, we will be cyborgs

And stand on the edge of the iron world

Looking at our metal marchion with robot fingers curled

In the future, we will never sleep

As the sun turns into the cold-faced moon

Night will be an infrared noon

We will need no stars, songs, or counting-sheep


In the future, the world will be stone

The ocean will be dry, salt in rolling waves

The grass will go brown, the sky will turn gray

In the future, art will be life

Cats will be toasters will forks for claws

While dogs will have singing alarm-clocks for paws

And they will act in eccentric electric strife


In the future, mountains will fall

As piles of appliances in place of them rise

While together we drown in synthetic eyes

In the future, this world will crumble

While radiation takes my breath away

I'll wait with you for better days

We will be cyborgs.