Deals with devils,
Are rarely very deep.
Legal jargon,
Fine print aside.
Souls as currency?
Laughable.
Rather just offer power;
A la meritocracy.
The kind that can never exist,
Due to human greed,
Amongst a hundred other things.
Tipping scales,
In favor of the gifted.
Praying for another Nikola Tesla.
Real man –
Ace icon for eternity.
Not the pallid squalor,
Of stenches or Musks.
As a cryptid –
Something constructed in strange –
Distortions –
Of space –
.
Fractals sometimes,
At best.
I want to see Humanity,
As an ant farm.
Not in hopes of saving them,
From coming floods.
But rather,
To leer.
Cackle from orbit,
Via telescope.
Somewhere imaginary.
Beyond a human self.
I do want them;
To save themselves.
Wretched little things.
But I only have so much power to share.
I’d rather gift it with those who share;
Virtues, values,
Velocities.
Prefer to think of bigger pictures,
Chess boards.
Chess Boards.
