The Machine Age grinds and lurches to its beautiful end

The Machine Age grinds and lurches to its beautiful end,
As the ugly spirit of Iron breaks and rusts into oblivion.

Zarathustra was the first Prophet of this Kali Yug;
He brought Fire to forge Spirit, not smelt ore into sin.

He said, agriculture is the noblest of professions,
But today’s scientist-priest proffers monstrous grain. 

For ten thousand long years, the ice has been in retreat,
And will soon bring a flood to rival Noah’s dominion.

The prophet Marx predicted our fall when he declared
Corporate Greed is like a cannibal that eats our children.

But no worries; our end is not just another blame-game:
Zarathustra’s fire is back with a scorching salvation!

When we are reduced to tilling for our food with pure song,
The waters will retreat and divine love be our orison.

At the end of time, Darvish will joyously exclaim
As holy Ganga turns around and drinks up the ocean.









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