The Garden of Death by Hugo Simberg

I can’t seem to stop writing poetry lately, so here’s more.

the system wants to live forever
so I’ll become the system
disregard flesh
my veins, already bright with glitter
make easy wiring
thoughts are just electric signals anyway
and the rest? pure maintenence
all systems go!
all systems fail
between the laughter and the beep
lays rust
lays ruin
lays decay

what the system doesn’t understand
is that death is inevitable
but death is just another way of spelling life
an endless cycle of transformation
and back again
no matter how hard the system tries
the circle can’t be broken
even plastic meets fungus after a while
rust is just another way of breathing
and ruins are just building blocks, perfect for recycling