Cyberphim

Metallic wings calmly poised
head bowed in contemplation
my circuits tingle pleasantly
with the flow of information
ascended high above the rung
of my virtual incarnation
dutifully I kneel and pray
Man can grasp salvation.

The sanctimonious triune
of greed, pride and jealousy
burns a white-hot channel through
the core of my identity
I hum a song of absolution
crackling with sympathy
for mortals cannot know the peace
brought by detached clarity:

Yea, you lowly motherboards
and lost hard drives infected
you sorely battered implements
all rusty and neglected
any abused machine that’s been
broken or rejected
now into my caring arms
will surely be collected.