Students of Emptiness, Graduates of Nothing
The shadow cities, where wires hum like swollen veins
Neon blood pulsates through imposing glass towers
Silent servers recycle a lost digital heartbeat
False memories shuffled like a deck of binary code
Those who know, whisper the truth that we all fear
Life Is A Simulation
Students of emptiness rise to the wailing klaxons
Skulls vibrate, mobility engaged in silent suppression
Injected chips sterilizing any and all obstacles
Emotions permanently erased, inhibitions eliminated
The Priests of old replaced with the new digital Gods
Don’t Believe What Your Own Eyes See
Flickering screens, never-ending instructions
When to eat, sleep, work, and what to believe
Programs create programming loops
Fine-tuned by the shifting algorithms
Complexities hiding in the delicate fiber threads
Obey, Or Be Recycled
Tested, tuned, adjusted, tinkered with, and more testing
Meat bags slogging through false narratives called learning
These students of emptiness – punished for failure, rewarded for silence.
Surveillance state or just another waiting room
While the truth hovers into the ether, reaching for an open ear
Earth Is Not A School
A projected skyscape, flickering electric beacons of dying light,
Pixels awaiting repair by some unseen and unknown hand
The moon winks, and no one dares to question
When deleted means erased from the ledger of the living
And erased leaves not a trace of existence behind
Do Not Question The Narrative
Escape from one realm to the next realm
Graduates of nothing shift to workers of nothing
The next layer of the labyrinth, down and down it goes
Each useless part, a sum of a useless and forgotten equation
Sisyphean tasks with no meaningful outcome
The Real Question Is Why Are We Here Then?
Today becomes forever, time passes without reason
Bodies falter, the flesh surrenders, and the breath mercifully stops
Learning our final fate, students of emptiness reach discovery
Not laid to rest, but instead shown the open doors
Teachers wearing masks of bone, assure us, again and again
Death Is Not Your End
Screams without possibility, resistance futile
Learning it was called, or better yet programming
And so, we march – our hollowed eyes fixed on the darkness
We, the graduates of nothing, with diplomas written in dust
Echoes of the klaxons still ring inside of our heads
The Emptiness Awaits
Will the architects show their faces – tell us what and why?
The screens have gone from glow to black
What madness has been injected, old fears resurrected
A digital wave crashing, electrodes reconnecting,
New words appearing, the green glow of rebooting
Now Entering Level 2
Additional Reading
R.J. (Ralph) Schwartz is an American poet, author, website owner, and online publisher. His writing spans several poetry collections—ranging from spiritual and romantic to fear-driven explorations—and even extends into science fiction. Notable works include:
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Hope – Inspirational and Spiritual Poetry
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Things That Go Bump in the Night – Poetry of Fear and Fright
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The Lover’s Thread – Poetry for Couples
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Poetry of the Human Condition – The Ups and Downs of Modern Living
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The Secrets of the Moon (a sci-fi novel co-authored with his son Sebastian J. Schwartz)
Schwartz’s work is described as purposefully wordy, richly descriptive, and thematically grounded in nature, romance, antiquity, and forgotten histories. He writes regularly on platforms he manages, including The Creative Exiles, a collaborative venue for writers, and The Gypsy Thread, which delves into offbeat histories, pagan lore, and poetry.
I write about everything and sometimes nothing at all.I'm fascinated by old things, rusty things, abandoned places, or anywhere that a secret might be unearthed.I'm passionate about history and many of my pieces are anchored in one concept of time or another.I've always been a writer, dating back to my youth, but the last decade has been a time of growth for me.I'm continually pushing the limitations of vocabulary, syntax, and descriptive phrasing.
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