The Empire of Neon
Over the dark hill the sullen lamp-posts march
Extending the frontiers of the Empire into the vast beyond,
Slashing at the soft flesh of Night with their cold steel blades
Till the red blood runs down her face
(I can see on the horizon her red blood flowing
As my head is filled with her stifled screams).
The lamposts march ever onwards
Bearing the standard of Neon
The false god that never sleeps
His eye forever open on a barren world
And cold: the gaze of living death.
His soldiers swarm over the green fields
Pile-drivers hammer holes into the soft earth
Turning this valley of dreams into a concrete dustbowl
Building new temples to the modern God.
His great engines whirr into action
Screaming "Forget the Past
Everything old and eternal ignore
I am the Present: there is no other time."
And the Earth screams, but you cannot hear her.
And the stars shine on, but you can no longer see them.
And what sounds like a wolf howls disconsolately,
But it is only a bored guard dog,
For the forests are all fallen and the wolves are gone,
And a man can walk home alone at night and fear
Only his fellow men
While a woman would not dare to walk home alone.
In the Empire of Neon
Fear is the Emperor's hound
That walks beside him always, ears erect
And growls at the slightest sound
That is not made by a machine.
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