Mechaphilic
"Burn, burn, baby" -
The chant filters up like noise in the cables
in synchrotron, machine-gun rhythm
like orgasmic seizures through silicon nerves.
The debased fire that owned us both
swallowed all sense of humanity;
war-machine lust all it left behind.
"Burn, burn, baby, krieg ist liebe" -
No time for pride when cities fall;
you know it was only the worst of plans,
but success breeds bitterness.
(It's cleansed best by blood lightning.)
Come dance with me:
forsake that tired sense of reason
and let the cosmos pour from your fingertips.
It'd shine so much brighter
if we left it all in ruin.
Destiny Knight Community Member 
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