Our Flaws Are The Truest Form Of Humanity

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Our flaws are the truest form of humanity
That which separates us from the machines
The cold, the soulless; exactly what not to be
Whether we can evolve remains to be seen
With our necks straining against the guillotine

Fatigue Hitting My Bleary Eyes

Fatigue hitting my bleary eyes
Another night upon the flight deck
Needing a shower & my rack
A nation’s burden around my neck

Chocks & chains in the pouring rain
Undeterred from the mission at hand
Endless hours like every sailor before
So few remaining will ever understand