(A tribute to H.G. Wells War of the Worlds)
by S.E. Johnson
It was the machines first,
They came from afar and settled in,
Building their home a piece at a time,
Thatís when we knew we could not win.
The whir and click, the buzz and squeal,
Day and night they grew like a beast
Spreading out their broods across the land,
It was then that everything green ceased.
Next came the depleting of our seas
The skies turned from blue to gray,
And we were only people the expendable flesh,
They were the masters and we must obey.
Men had become pliant and dispassionate
So we folded our hands and became the slaves,
What else could we do in these final days,
We walked quietly and obediently to our graves
It was the machines or maybe it was complacency,
And yet some still hung tenaciously on to hope,
When the machines might grind to a halt,
Then humanity would grasp tightly that rope,
Pull hard and set themselves free.