Artificial Eden: A Counterfeit Kind Of Love Poem by DM W

Quick fix culture
Terrified to face itself;
Terrified to discover
An empty shell

Ashes to ashes; dust to dust
Love is reduced to animal lust.
Love is now just an exchange of fluids
Love is now just a fashion accessory.
It's about what's compatible, (seriously!)
Between well matched sets of personality packages

Where is the love that is real in space and time?
And yet which transcends space and time;
Which is fully conscious of itself
And longs to embrace the divine.
We can only regret our failure to achieve;
That which the mystics claim is both real and transcendent;
That which is within our reach; within our grasp.
Some cannot regret as they know no better.
They eat and sleep and go to work and fall, in and out, of love
And engage in a wide range of leisure pursuits.
And live their lives within a narrow frame of reference
Because they know no other way of being.

Quick fix culture;
Cold and numb,
Born of frustration,
Built for fun.