We Shall Rise (standard:poetry, 236 words)
Author: Unsun	Added: Apr 10 2001	Views/Reads: 3520/0	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The life of the despotic cynic

I am a real boy. And the blood that is pumped mechanically through the
fleshy pipes beneath my skin. Blood and bone, Balls and brains, they 
are real. The chemical engine stomach that burns away food, to 
transform them into energy for me. Destruction and reformation of 
matter to power the mechanicians of life. Rusty cogs of bones grind 
against each other and dull and slow nerves transmit commands to weary 
and worn muscles. owrk engines which are long out of date. 

I am a real boy. I am the human machine.The one who sees the rise and
falls of civilizations as a pattern. "civilation go up, civilization go 
down, civiliation go up, civilization go down". The macrorythmn of 
human existence. And during this beat of the centuries, the beauty of 
cynicism has been crushed. 

I am a real cynical, boy. And we, the cynics, pessimists,realists and
nay sayers, who have been oppressed by the legions and hordes and 
platoons and squadrons of yay sayers, idealists, and optimists. now the 
time is ripe, and we shall rise from our own bitter ashes a flaming 
bird of vengeance and reality. we the human machines shall bring an end 
to the tyranical rule of the spiritual yes men. We the machines who are 
people too, who think negatively towards a positive end, will pry loose 
the nails with which we have been crucified on a cross of ignorance.


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