Man can create a mechanical heart
He can Discard the organs for synthetic parts
Then he Programs the mind
And thickens the skin
They resemble humans but
They're not your friends
They are drones
Without meaning
They are fakes
Without reason
They know all the motions and don't deviate
They are slaves
To false idols
They are cowards
Bound by fear
They think far too long
And feel way too late

Creator of death

Reign down
On us
May you stand on A grave of our bones
Our thoughts
Ideas
No one will mourn your death

Do these gears have a pulse
A blood that flows of the revolt
Do they create with love but design with this hate

Man can build a face that never frowns
But does it understand the reason of its smile

Cold hands and warm hearts
Hold steady, stay the course
Course of action
That led us all to here
Madman took the wheel to steer

Nothing will be left to remember the mistake

We are the disconnected
We are the disconnect

We aren't machines

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