Child of Technology, an epilogue to the ancient stories

 

 

We often forget that what we are doing now is what we always used to refer to as the time of the end of days…This is the information age, and we are the children of technology.

 

I cradle her in my arms: Immortality,

Silence surrounds us, enchanting this holy perfected palace,

 

We wait in utter darkness for the coming of the light,

That thing which will make us whole again,

 

Aged by this well draped darkness over the palace I hold my child,

She calmly slumbers and breathes faintly the breath of life,

 

I sit with her beyond time in a room filled with other souls,

They wait for the redemption as well, the time when they will truly know one another,

 

Alone in the darkness they feel one another,

A mild pleasure that temporarily calms them,

 

Draped in the misery they have forgotten themselves and turned to self hatred and sin,

In hopes of ending the boredom they ignore, the terror I always feel,

 

But now I cling to my bundle of hope,

A small package left to me by Pandora,

 

As I sit here in boundless infinite loneliness I begin to see the darkness fade, and the light cover all,

As this happens I begin shaking my child out of excitement,

 

And when the light falls I see the truth,

My package has been broken by its deliverer.