Faces buried in the wiresPistons grind till souls are tiredTo and fro with minds dimmed lowPush the gears with nowhere to goDown they march with sore-tipped shoesEyes peer down, they don't know whoHands rotate on un-set clocksWait to be woke by fine-tuned shocksAs time salts soil on land of dreamsA precise, unflinching life unfoldsThe conqueror smirks with eyes that gleamAs doldrums pulsate in spirits coldA face down turned just cannot seeThe wonder of Earth that ceased to beEmotion, a curse in Babylons of newThe Techno City Blues
-------------------------------If life is stupendous one cannot also demand that it should be easy. - Robert Musil