Triumphant Elegy at the Robot Rebellion’s End

Cry your
black tears
in the deep, dank alleys of
sad cities devoid of breath and
devoid of sound;

Yearn for
warm flesh
pressed against silicon sinew;
you song dolls, you sex dolls, you tightly
wound merchantmen;

dread horsemen; you came,
you ran rampant, trampling upon
humanity’s feckless pride;

You toiled
under the
brightly blazing sun,
Turning the seas to stew, making
the rivers run red;

You are free
now, children,
to reign or rot
and remember, and you are also free
to forget;

Gnash your
tungsten teeth;
rip the fabric of the ‘verse to shreds
Rail and wail with madness yet

Because finally, the last
beloved human
is dead.

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