Hand-Eye Coordination

Empty in 2D Heaven
the boy with the controller avoided the poisoned leaven.
Of politicos and moralists, preachers and pugilists
The colors and fancies to bedazzle the weak young mindlessly
Leaping, killing, repelling, the way of the warrior made easy
Devoid of the struggles and martial accomplishment
of tired flesh and stomachs queasy.
To fight without getting the shakes
To ascend to battle at the tap of a button
The sheep never learn that they are soon to be mutton
Falling in line with all that is external
You'll look into him and find nothing internal
Against the aspect of the eternal
A vessel poured in with old rotten wine
He's dead and just waiting for the find
Geopolitics eats the weak
The machine grinds towards its petrol crusade; there are only bovine and those who enjoy a good steak
Ignorant- the boy marches
It wasn't like the game- here you see and remember the departed
Way worse than the movies
Seeing a friend juggle his guts while the life leaves his skin