The postmodern Prometheus

A lightning crosses the night
While he types on a strange device
He is about to unleash the beast
A monster will be brought to life

He is not a god nor a titan
No fire stolen or given
He is a man, staring at his creation,
who hopes to be forgiven

It’s made of metal
There is no heart or soul
From the outside, it resembles a man
But no blood runs through his veins

Prometheus created man
A god creating a mortal spirit
And in our quest to be like god
there’s something that we forgot

Created in man’s own image
The beast will learn it quick
Instead of bowing to their creator
They will have him kneeling at their feet