Medieval Resent... Poem by Aleksandra Szymanska

Electronic twitting wrenches my heart -
I dream in despair of days filled with life.
Birds, trees, and wind are no longer one,
wired spine of nature fills like helpless strife...

Where is the exit, way out of this maze?
What deeds weight so much that you pay for them this way?
Will God's masterpiece sink in this electronic haze,
so for ever we'll wade through sounds of dismay?

I don't want to translate nature into your speech!
I don't know who's the 'genius' and what's his aim!
Murder me and bury by an oak tree, so I will be rich,
nourishing my bones with earth's balm, not so lame!

You will never copy God and His timeless creation!
Don't even try to erase His holy existence!
You and your 'achievement' are just an extension
of evil fought by the truth and its persistence!

In simplicity of my ordeal I just briefly state
how I loath this game which I've never asked for!
I'm the victim of your greed, jealousy, and hate -
all what's beautiful disperse in your giga-bite store!