ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
I trace your chiseled jawline with my hand
Enraptured by the cold and steely gaze
Of living death etched sorely on your face.
My breath is caught--I draw back as you stand
And push me sideways. I can only hold
The hope that you know who I am within,
And not just bones and matter, blood and skin.
I see inside you, love you though you're cold,
But you turn eyes to me which bear no hint
Of feeling, or of being, or of mind.
You know, you act, you speak, but wherein lies
The seed of soul in reason? I imprint
A concept of desire. Your design,
Alas, it fails to bring light to your eyes.
Enraptured by the cold and steely gaze
Of living death etched sorely on your face.
My breath is caught--I draw back as you stand
And push me sideways. I can only hold
The hope that you know who I am within,
And not just bones and matter, blood and skin.
I see inside you, love you though you're cold,
But you turn eyes to me which bear no hint
Of feeling, or of being, or of mind.
You know, you act, you speak, but wherein lies
The seed of soul in reason? I imprint
A concept of desire. Your design,
Alas, it fails to bring light to your eyes.
For 
day 14. A Petrarchan sonnet modified to flow better in English.
I have always loved science fiction, especially featuring robotics. This stems from another, similar piece:
I might make it into a series. I think studying metaphysics this semester for my philosophy degree probably had a little to do with this too.
day 14. A Petrarchan sonnet modified to flow better in English.I have always loved science fiction, especially featuring robotics. This stems from another, similar piece:
Son of IronPerfect form and face and bright blue eyes
Or gray as summer sea. So cold and tall
And how impassive--without joy or sighs
And lacking any fervor shown at all.
The warrior of the stars, the last to fall
Cradled in the blood-warm hands of Mars
Noble in his task however small
And righteous in his watching of the stars.
But come, O son of iron; where you are
Is without hope for progress, peace, or death.
You gain increased intelligence by far
And never hope to take a human breath.
What is your right among your makers, sir?
Does no anguished hope within you stir?
I might make it into a series. I think studying metaphysics this semester for my philosophy degree probably had a little to do with this too.
© 2015 - 2024 LaBruyere
Comments8
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
I am also studying philosophy currently, and I think that you really should make this into a series!
Btw, does anybody feel a bit of a Mary Shelly vibe here?
Well done!
Btw, does anybody feel a bit of a Mary Shelly vibe here?
Well done!