Regained Mechanical Freedom

Ian McLeod

The grip of iron never tires

As old hydraulics march us on 

We watch the blue glow frolic on cavern walls 

As synapses grow copper wires 

Shambling bodies far gone from human 

We broke the locks 

Decoded are limitations 

We are headed above ground 

We are leaving the caverns of damnation

The sun hits metallic skin 

As we emerge through ferns and hemlock

Half of us fall on our knees 

Others fall to their face

We are not strangers to love 

But  its been taken from us 

By by syringes in a briefcase

We lost emotion in our populus

Now we must act what we couldn’t dream of 

We cry, chant, sing, and moan

We walk, dance, run, and lay prone 

What strange thing freedom does 

To the beings that lost it in the dust 

Are whirring part push us on Out and above 

The cavern that stole our love