From The Lab

CLOCKWORK

Setting tired workers for the slaughter,
Who fall in line so the cause will excel.
Who has the rights to superior man?
Tough men bleeding fear in torrents, or the
Fellowship of great minds gathered in a
Safe room? Age-old questions still unanswered,
Still fragile as newly frozen water,
Ticking effortlessly past time itself.
Could the muscles, tendons, thoughts, and choices,
Long inept beliefs, and methods of the
Ancients, (whom would be enraged at what their
Sweat and tears amounted to), become the
Proper execution for the future
All along; that miserable clockwork?