By Kian Zehtabian

The man in the new ages,
Lonely he must feel—
To only be touched
By shades of blue screens.
No more he hears songs whispered—
In ears of his children—
About tales of night, about armored knights
By a woman's lips whom she dearly once kissed.
Oh dear moon and stars
Oh you rulers of the dark skies—
Hear me one last time in the dawn of time—
Hear me again from depths of my alienation
As I seek redemption
And shine brightly—
On the man of new ages heart,
So it barricades would melt 
Before absurd glamourous vain amusements,
Melt his heart,
And before arrival of the absurd
For the new man to be haunted
By the ghosts of his own ego
In empty imaginary houses that reside in mud—
Still maybe time, before he is taken over
By shades of the blue lights.

4 thoughts on “Man of New Ages

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