We notice daily truth, and soon forget,
That we slip even deeper with each sunset.
The comfort crumbles, and makes us fret
The climax is mounting, with no peak yet,
Everyone notice, and place your bet.
We set up our cameras, and press record.
An investment, where the future is stored.
Technology has murdered the pen and sword.
Instead of letting ourselves get bored,
Let's see if aliens land dressed as the lord.
Our system online, we watch and we wait.
Viewing the disorder from behind front gates.
At least we are prepared, we weren't too late,
To see these mobs before they enter our estate.
No one will have to inform us of our fate.
I must have dozed off on the ninth day.
I'm too too tired to be god, too tired to pray.
To release your troubles to the sleep is the only way.
I can only hope that on a distant day,
They find my lonely corpse and press play.
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