by Nick Gisburne
A child of steel, a powerful device
Created for the many, by the few
Designed to bring a perfect paradise
To purify the planet, through and through
He cleans the air and oceans, heals the earth
For moments, precious, few, the dream is done
But soon he sees the stains of life and birth
They cannot hide from him, their selfish son
As every infestation is destroyed
His perfect world becomes a perfect hell
Alive, alone, unable to avoid
The darkness of this cold and sterile shell
Afraid, with no one left to share the dream
In death he cries a final, silent scream
