“Man’s destiny is …” they say
And, looking far away,
Weave fancies in the air
(For which I do not care).

To sit by an open pub fire
Fulfils my heart’s desire,
Yet they can not leave it alone
(This desire to transform skin and bone
Into silicone).

I hear the ticking clock
And feel inner peace,
But they will not cease
In their search to unlock
That which, perhaps keeps us sane,
(This imperfect human brain).

“We must transcend
The human and ascend
To the sky.
We can be as gods, you and I”,
They proclaim.

Shall I mention Icarus’s name?
A passing commotion
In the ocean
There was when the boy fell,
Or so the mythologists tell.