The horizons I see are shady, 

Sometimes enough to freeze dead - 

A cyberpunk old lady, 

Her eyes glowing red. 

The heaven of those longing for cash,

Ready to sell their soul for ease,

Not a human - a static mesh, 

A physics body, if you please. 

Our actions, words, feelings

Are all part of some massive dealing

Planned during a single meeting.  

We do not know - we are drinking and eating. 

The only ones to see through the dust, 

Existence of those indeed is a must,

Creators - we call them…

… and throw some rotten tomatoes. 

You!

The one, without whom my existence

Would be in vain. 

You!

Yes, you, the one who causes me

Such a blunt pain,

I'm talking to you. 

Listen to me!

I am your only voice

Apart from the hum that’s talking

About freedom of choice. 

You are the one who has no imagination!

You are the one who is not a poet!

You are the one who never felt inspiration!

You are the one… 

Calm down!

You aren’t alone… 

Hundreds of us, 

Browsing the Earth - 

A useless mess

Not capable of mirth. 

A happy ending - moronic concept,

We play requiems at our concerts.

Why lament, when we can exult?

We are worshipping truth as a cult

Truth shouldn’t be bent

To avoid torment. 

Enough!

My speech is futile.

Let me perform

My final bow,

And wish you 

a miserable existence

With claws of the future

Around your neck.