The incomplete and short ballad of the man called Me

There was a man who lived like a king
talked and laughed with a gleam in his eyes
did things which always pleased his mind
reading a book or following art
seldom doing things which multitude does
lead a peasant’s life with prince like charm
little did he know he was living a dream
all he knew was that he was called me.

Came in two with motives clear
freshly out of a garden they claimed
they talked a bit about an apple tree
those two set out to reform the king
yes, the skies were grey and the Gods happy
for the man called me was slowly reformed

The man lost his once had gleam
A book nor art did make him smile
Living a dream he no longer was
There was a man who once lived a dream
some people say he lived like a king
There was a time when he had a name
That was the time when he lived a dream

leave

Woke up early with a lot of chores to do

pay some random bills, and an office to go

sit on the same seat, gape at the same screen

tense faces all around, like they have forgotten to smile

Life’s so mundane ,like it has always been

How i wish i could just leave

Leave all these behind, for there are better people

who can gape and sit better than i can

who can talk and enjoy life

who can take all the load

For i cant take it at all, and i need to leave

Leave you my father,  bye bye my mother

So long my brother , adieu my sister

cheerio my friends, sayonara sweet love

leave you to your happiness and sadness

i had cried and laughed enough

i might be missed, yet i have to leave tonight

Leaving my books and my music behind

with a fifty pages and a pen

i walk out alone into the new world

The world of less expectations

and centum gratification.

The rest is sans significance.

as i would have already left.

the day god was defeated

One that hits it harder,

Other is one who hits it with craft.

One that who is relentless,

Other is one who errs.

One that uses power,

Other is one who is just all class.

One that is a machine,

Other is one who was God.

It was the first of a month,

and I woke up with a headache;

knowing little of what was in store,

for today was the day God was defeated.

Pulled down by a machine,

who had an answer to all that God could ask,

who had the questions God couldn’t answer.

God did try his bit, at the end he erred.

Its the rise of the machines.

And the world will never be the same.

God will pour his grace on us at times,

but when we can’t be certain.

there will be better machines ,

there wont be a better God.

One has to be absent for us to know that we miss them,

sadly it holds true even for God.