Broadcast in Real Time

Myriad fragments of a mirror
our preferred way to see
in an endless echo chamber
so loud
even earless become deaf
The invisible chandelier
swings above
our guiding light
made of swords ready to drop
anytime now
anytime

The tribe has gathered
to a mirage desert
the black sun in our hearts
shines not so bright
as we play the mad pantomime
composed of millions of ancestors

Our lineage is clear
the direction is set
but be as it may
I change the channel
now