Treachery Of The Demiurge Poem by Aaryan Irani

A sore gale
gusts from each corner
with plastic sails
and faux honour.
For it is the age of steel hence,
with metal thoughts and metal sense.

Thin gleams,
blinding grey
The age of metal is today.
How blindly does man
give into such shades dull?
Whence the sight of trees, null;
drove men mad
to work as slaves
With extreme fad
and slip into oblivion.

Smoke stained bricks
and iron rust
mocked the roses
that shrank by dusk.
And the imps condensed into darkness,
Under the foliage unexpended.
(Certain starkness)

And sniveled over the Demiurge that they once gave birth to
Now engulfs all that is green,
In an inferno