Clocks Rule The Ancient Wait Poem by Drake Grey

there is no perfect circle
or no final mechanical rule

there is no island to stand without interference

the machines are everywhere emitting condescending tones
backwards incantations suggesting all forms of sin

one to zero
zero to one

the electronic gave way to the digital
and the power of connecting

searching for meta

absorbing seconds and abstracting an age

and even faster into the quantum
harnessing the cold light

zero to one
one to zero

a serial madness
as our inner orders
remain as a dream

unbalanced against knowledge of the real spiritual

fighting earthquakes
is mankind fit for power?

astral clouds spiraling down like glazed doughnuts

sciences diving into technological hyper zones
without knowing wisdom

overstating the obvious

synchronous as truth divided

the pendulum swings
incessantly ticking
back and forth