A millenium from now, after the Martian invasion
You're the last of the human species, sitting in the cage
Surrounded by impersonal robots of the man's creation
Suffering no humiliation and feeling no violent rage
You could read the future, but you're illiteral
Not blind, but having trouble seeing the light
Feeding on insects, considering that natural
Yet torn between telling wrong from right
The silver cross on your neck stirs up a vague memory
Of the remote time loaded by faith and hope
It's too late, coz your brain looks like a dead battery
You wish you knew more, yet missing the inside dope
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem