Robots Moulded in Flesh
We are robots moulded in flesh;
Capable of winking at others
While duping our own selves.
We proliferate to the seams and gasp for breath.
Coded viruses manipulate us;
We’re real but appearances dictate us;
We’re caged in quarks and shrouded in genes;
Constellations affect our thoughts and deeds.
Our range of knowledge is very finite;
Our ideals, though mercurial are very high.
We act, react, and walk well on stilts;
What if we growl and tilt at windmills?
We fight more for identity than survival;
Forgetting that all the seeds have gone mongrel!
In the crucible of Time all melt into One,
We cherish our past to adjust with the present.
Who is our Programmer? We know not a bit;
We seem to have been conceived in a fit;
When fears haunt us, we rush to dreams;
When courage fails, we sink in requiems.
We can peep back into billions of years;
But can’t solve the mystery that surrounds us;
Nor can we cancel our termination, nor delay;
Such is our life and such is our fate!