Cyborgs

They were made from the flesh of our brothers Chosen for their obedience and willingness To sacrifice their individuality For a society willing to sacrifice them

Crafted with the care of a precocious six year old Who has just encountered finger-paints This haphazard mix of metal and bone Was smeared across a canvas Of bloody needles and brutal discipline The silver and red A brutal mass of deadly contradiction

Perfect soldiers For a society so twisted by humanity And its mistakes That almost children are only fodder For a war fought in the name of ghosts

Maybe they’re lucky that we’ve stopped their hearts For now they can never be broken