In her tiny hand a window appears,
Filled by enmeshed dealers,
From cybernetic wisdom,
All over the places,
To oversee traces,
Dancing in parameters of the system.
Suddenly conjuncture changes,
To temper justice with mercy,
File directory spreads hard in front of weary faces,
Perforate into minds, refolding coarsely
She is far behind,
On the opposite site,
He is breathing hoarsely.
People are ready to fork out all their money,
Big numbers, not funny amounts.
Serious men, special name accounts.
Does she think - nothing never changes for the worse,
Is it only the phone message on the screen, or his soul in her purse,
Or even greater humiliation to reverse?
An output discover, he's ultimately lost,
By rule and line he calculates the new direction
For his body , little crimes and huge affection...
As if there is a cryptic thing that costs,
Repairing the world from smaller pieces,
Walking rickety on accumulated frosts,
He feverishly scroll his anamnesis.
Dumb local meetings,
When he speaks quiet, no one ever listen,
Feels like treason,
He rumbles out and they hold their ears,
The scheme is elegant and based on souvenirs.
Plain LCD to visualize a structure,
Tracking circuit silhouettes below,
She knows her brilliance, she feels the rapture
But something's wrong!
She figured out, they are not alone.
Discreet operation fails
Her eyes. His state.
Short fight, and no more masks, embrace...
For enemies, this hug's too delicate.
His face. Too late.
They set off the alert.
Converted to a tiny dot,
He's looking at the iron door.
Shut deep in metal core
He has one thought
"The end of play"
He's wondering, if she were caught,
The camera eye slowly turns away.
If you liked this poem, see another Distopian lyrics!