apoptosis – a natural process of self-destruction in certain cells.
The goggles, tubes and lab coats claim
That cells are meant to work in unison.
These ones don’t.
These ones flaunt their blood-shot eyes,
Hanging contorted grins upon
Their dark ideas of martyrdom.
No, these ones don’t.
These cells clot blood, drug sluggish tongues
And squeeze the freedom
From our mouths.
But our fingers, when we point,
Start dripping blood:
We fed this blaze, we helped to make it burn.
Amongst the scorching coals, I see our drones,
Our thirst to live as gods.
This cannot justify their sins,
It simply means
Our hands are also stained.
For when the dust, snow-like, drifts
Down to the ground,
The world will see, through a foreign haze,
The outcome of our crimes,
Twisting, trembling, screaming