Circumstantial Evidence

We are entering the age that will find us
under the myopic glaze of the panopticon,
it will see your human beauty as a threat
and use power given by the soulless
to attack your lightness of being
its boots will march and trample
all that is lovely, in clumsy certainty,
it will betray me and lie to you,
tell you I don’t love to see you,
it will thrive on making us strangers
with its blindly slavish madness

Its agents and spies will cackle
at the dismal droning silence.

Though I know I will never forget you
and secretly wish for the glorious image
of a phoenix rising from their ashes
of perverse, measured, busy nothingness

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