Through history,
our gods
promised paradise.
Yet their lies
were soon exposed
beneath the bodies
of heretics and martyrs.
All,
crusading, preaching,
prothletising,
starved
or
burnt alive.
Slaves by sword
or bended knee.
In the end,
all for naught.
Now,
we worship
upon the mantle
of ones and zeros.
The machine,
born of dead carbon
and reason alone.
Our secrets,
history, culture,
civilisation,
entrusted…
to flickers of light.