Beating the Machine is a verse I wrote in 2020 challenging the increasing trend of public shaming on social platforms. And a frank narrative as to how the tabloid media, in particular, are acting as attack force. In a sense, it is an open letter to mankind. Saying, quite simply, please be kind. This arrangement pays homage to Who’s the Cymbol? (No, What’s the Symbol?) by Raveology.
Listen to Beating The Machine by Richard Charles Stevens (Symbolic Suite)
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Love runs through it
Hate defiles
.
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Let’s run through it
Break disguise
.
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Love runs through it
Hate defiles
.
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Let’s run through it
Break disguise
.
Running diagnostics
There’s a ghost in the machine
Only we can stop this
Or else hosts
Will be relieved
Stealing our uniqueness
Keeping us at incompleteness
There’s a demon in the sequence
There’s a reason we recede
.
Do we not see
That we are feeding the machine
Hating others openly
Is needlessly obscene
Do we not appreciate the weakness of our schemes
We live to be facetious
It’s as heedless as it seems
.
Making crude assumption based on reams of skewed pretence
Screaming bloody murder when we muse the need to vent
Every hateful word is one much later we’ll repent
For thirty silver pieces are fictitious when they’re spent
.
All the while
The media are pulling all the strings
Growing ever seedier and clipping all our wings
They create the narrative
Each time the songbird sings
Anything to get us good and riled
.
They consider us too weak to seek a greater understanding
Meek and mild
Defiled by each decree they have a hand in
Sworn to oath to be the most esteemed earth-born companions
Not a one foreseen to be upstanding
.
The vision they attest is really no less than outlandish
For they brandish weapons some way from pristine
Lengths they will traverse to hurt are needlessly obscene
Indeed they’re every bit as heedless as they seem
.
Winning isn’t everything
Indeed it’s barely anything
When victory admits defeat to beaten victims perishing
.
Winning isn’t everything
Indeed it’s barely anything
When victory admits defeat to beaten victims perishing
.
Needling each seedling unto the point of bleed
Draining veins
Anointing joints with chloroform and bleach
Joining every dot
To further populate their reach
Blotting each horizon with disease
(Let’s run through it)
.
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Love runs through it
Hate defiles
.
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Let’s run through it
Break disguise
.
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Love runs through it
Hate defiles
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Let’s run through it
Break disguise
.
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Love runs through it
Hate defiles
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Let’s run through it
Break disguise
.
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Love runs through it
Hate defiles
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Let’s run through it
Break disguise
.
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Love runs through it
Hate defiles
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Let’s run through it
Break disguise
.
Corrupting the files
They deem surplus
Our purpose is merely a version
For further conversion
Deferred of uniqueness
They keep us in cages
Where self-flagellation
Equates congratulation
As we waste away to cater to their paper-thin perversions
Unaware the glare of debonair dictators
.
They think us too defeated
To entreat freedom of speech
Consider us too beaten
To seek secrets in their keep
Should we decode the sequence
Then we’re owed no exposition
As we’re given no permission to proceed
.
Do we not see judgement calls as cause to be concerned
Shoring up the stubborn walls with rubble from the urn
Burning bridges
Turning tricks to topple our opponents
Unaware where to declare the onus
.
Burning bridges
Turning tricks to topple our opponents
Unaware where to declare the onus
(Let’s run through it)
.
Do we not see
The open road we opt to clutter
Something’s melting in our mouths
It ain’t no knob of butter
Tutting under oath at the life choices of another
Is no way for our voices to recover
.
All the while
We puppeteers are pulling all the strings
Growing in enormity and broadening our wings
Should we create the narrative
Each time the songbird sings
Then we’re anything but beaten in the wild
(Let’s run through it)
.
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Love runs through it
Hate defiles
.
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Let’s run through it
Break disguise
.
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Love runs through it
Hate defiles
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Let’s run through it
Break disguise
.
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Love runs through it
Hate defiles
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Let’s run through it
Break disguise
.
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Love runs through it
Hate defiles
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Let’s run through it
Break disguise
.
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Love runs through it
Hate defiles
Love is fluid
Hate is bile
Let’s run through it
Break disguise
.
Richard Charles Stevens
Keeper of The Crimson Quill
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