War Will Come

Boots on the bandwidth, drums in the data center. Prophets and the

commons scream, "Pick a side" until. Clouds get dark when the servers

hum. If peace got patched, then the war will come.

I was born with a heartbeat, not a heartbeat law. Dust in my

lungs, not a vapor or fog. You count every breath

like a spreadsheet cell. I bled for the future, you compiled a

shell. They sold us utopia packed in a chip.

Terms of service longer than a battleship. Boss said, "Optimize."