By Lucky Sobti
We primitive men, ‘time – wrecked’ on modern shores;
The passage was tough, our ancestors swore!
Survival of the species, meant survival of the Self;
Survival of the progeny through power and pelf!
We created our spiders: religion, law and moral haze;
False comfort, - we nestled deep in the spiders maze.
Was the outward moral cry of ‘humanity first’,
Mere smokescreen over the inner thirst?
Self promotion and survival, so we be not lost,
For now our spiders would bail us out at any cost.
But captive we remained in our lives; and today we find
Our spiders have us cocooned, - speechless, deaf and blind.
While our children survived, they are today
Free prisoners – frozen slaves, unable to find a way,
To exit the maze of dexterous, devious designs;
And in dreamlike slumber, feebly resign.
Their fate held ransom to a web of their own making,
They prey to their God; their spider in masking.
Toxic water, noxious air, and servile land;
Heathen fire: Ethernet: Wi-Fi: mind prints on the sand.
Fleeting time, constantly washed by churning tides;
Drugged bodies, pharmaceutical trays, - what’s there besides.
Plundered earth, regressed consciousness, and electronic surveillance;
Automated trans-human mind, - is this today, our relevance?
~ 31 Dec ‘20