In a Thunderstorm (day 2698)

Pop art killed me in a thunderstorm
There I sat alone
Silenced by modern lights
Suffocating though I drew breath
Yet unconvinced
Crawling deeper within
To the warmth, warmth found
In the mothership womb
Holding me, straight-arm,
At quite a distance
With mechanical arms
Ragged and worn
Tried all I could
Until flashes of light.

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