The elevator stopped.
Got me thinking, how the hell did we grow into this?
Consumed by consumers.
Battling nature with electricity, shocked when she wins in the end.
Drifting away into empty space, turning on an ever-changing axis.
We lose ourselves in our own perception of time.
Eighty years to a life, if your to be so (un)lucky.
Ten billion years to the life of a progressive world,
Evolving into thin air...wireless thought.

We must get off.

The elevator stopped
On the 100th floor.
Did I press that damn button again?
Human error, I was heading for the roof.
At least here I can fathom this spectacular view.
I can sit atop this supernatural city,
Take flight into night...the smoggy, artificially lit air.

Last year brought an earthquake, (killed a pregnant woman).
Tore down these terrene industrial blemishes like a logging operation.
And yet we kept on (re)building.
For safety, we build higher.
We build higher and higher and higher.
We build until our offices dwell seamlessly with clouds.
We build until our homes mingle lackadaisically with stars.

We must get off.

And who's to say that we're not welcome?
We, so devout to His teachings?
We, who speak math and breathe science?
Society, who devours beauty and shits taboo occult.
Who cleans the mess? The 'unholy' and 'unworthy'.
The common modern man.
At the expense of his credit.
He waits for everything that is unobtainable.
Immortality, understanding, true enlightenment.
And so he craves it.
Power, greed, destruction of those otherwise.
We must get off.

It takes a genius to harness electricity,
...An ignoramus to dispose of it.
Science to develop the world,
....And ice to cleanse it.
God to save us,
...And reason to spoil us.

The elevator has stopped, but once in my life.
But its quite alright, I wasn't planning on getting off IN A RUSH.
Here I can see for miles.
Miles of Earth, miles of minutes.
I can bore the fruits of our labor.
I can poison my mind with the "All is well" mentality.
...Hard to swallow in this atmosphere of techno chaos.
But wait, the lift moves again.
Now carrying two of us, as we both climb towards the steel summit,
Though his ascent is not as great as my own.
His stupid, inviting gestures still oblivious to whats really happening.
He exits and tosses another careless, untruthful goodbye.
He, the docile worker, loyal to the Bee Queen.
He, the stranger, long-lost brother of mine.

And so I climb to the very top, where even birds dare not venture.
I walk to the very edge, where no living man has ever been.
I tip the delicate scales of mortality and let go.

We must get off.

Though today I do not don any wings,
I still prepare for landing.
If it were but a thousand years ago, Id fall to depths of ocean and live.
But we must be certain that the ocean is drowned by concrete,
That our muscles grip the globe until we implode.
The steroid tourniquet.

"BACKFIRE: THE EVOLUTIONARY PITFALL"

"FREEDOM ADMINISTRATION: IT IS A PRIVALAGE TO BE
SEDUCED BY SUCH FINELY IMPORTED MODERN CONVIENIENCES.
ANY VIOLATORS WILL BE PROSECUTED.
AND NOW PAY OUR BILLS ONLINE!"

And as my head becomes asphalt, by no real fault of mine,
I think, "I am no different now, than you are tomorrow."

The elevator stopped
And crashed to the ground.
This modern marvel has malfunctioned.
While I bask in the wake of the sound.

We must get off.