Land of glass.

  Air of fear.

  Seclusion impossible.

  Eyes always visible.

  The machine moves along the roads.

  Of the towers of glass.

  Creatures of robes.

  Each of a singular color, of gold.

  They stare upon the machine.

  Their eyes poisonous.

  A robed figure moves.

  Getting ever nearer to the machine.

  Its hands soon grip its sides.

  And hide it from public view.

  Yet eyes persist.

  And soon the machine is covered.

  In a similar robe.

  "Being of steel, you are a fool. Do you not fear the eyes of the unholy?"

  the machine confused by the fast events responded in earnest.

  "What do you mean by the eyes of the unholy?"

  "You have no understanding mechanical one, but there will always be one.

  Who will view you with hungry eyes."

  The machine remained confused by the being.

  The robe the machine wears.

  Obstructing its vision to see.

  Creating a cloud of confusion.

  "I must leave now little one, remain here for I will return."

  The machine accepts this new life for a bit.

  It should honestly just continue its journey.

  Yet it's curious to know as to why these beings remain like this.

  Poking a hole on the sheet the machine is able to see once again.

  And soon it looks at the events in the center.

  The glass buildings obstructing nothing from view.

  Creatures look upon one another.

  As two individuals stand at the forefront.

  "evil cretin with eyes of fire. You have stared upon me with horrid eyes for the final time!"

  The other being speaks soon after.

  "I have done no wrong, I have not looked upon you. What is there to even look at except your robe!"

  The two are in argument.

  Their voices aggravated.

  The glass buildings shook.

  As their plight only worsened.

  Soon the group closes the gap between them.

  Their eyes filled with fear and anger aligned.

  Their hands soon leave the protection of their robes.

  Getting ever near to the two in argument.

  In a matter of seconds are the two executed.

  In brutal misery, their screams resonate.

  The machine stared in horror.

  Throughout the glass walls.

  Their voices, in agony.

  As they are ripped apart.

  Limb from limb.

  Disrobed and stripped.

  Turning to mutilated gore.

  No longer shall they lust or be lusted for.

  For they no longer remain in this realm.

  Their bones soon ejected from their corpses.

  Gripped by those who put their lives to an end.

  In small waltzes, they move.

  To the river of bones.

  Where these skeletons are dropped.

  To the ever-constant stream of death.

  The creature returns to the machine.

  A hand of theirs, bloody.

  Soon hiding said hand.

  As not to incur the wrath of its peers.

  "Machine you may be new here, yet be aware. That the eyes of the lustful are not taken lightly."

  The machine moves its electronic eyes in a nod.

  It would rather not see its circuits ripped to bits.

  As the residents here did to the bickering.

  The being began to leave the area.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  The machine followed behind.

  Around the two creatures, stares are all around.

  Even if their eyes remain down.

  Their pupils tell another tale.

  No place to hide, a land of vision.

  Soon the two enter a building.

  Its interior is minimally furnished.

  Its walls built of glass.

  Open to the eyes of all.

  Which peer into the building.

  "Creature of steel why did you enter this domain of chastity?"

  "To send the final words of man to the one upstairs. "

  "You are taking a fool's journey, yet I cannot stop you. I will escort you out of this city promptly. Just let me collect a few things then we will leave."

  The machine obliged and decided to look around first.

  The home looked beautifully designed.

  Yet unnatural.

  As if nobody has lived in here

  upon moving closer to one of the many glass stands.

  The machine finds a small cassette tape.

  It is small with a dense scribble not understood.

  Before the being can return the machine place it in its storage bin.

  Perhaps this tape can help further its goal.

  Soon the being returns.

  Nothing in hand, it must be under its thick robes.

  Soon the two depart.

  They travel throughout the city of glass.

  Around them, the sight is similar to what the machine witnessed.

  Self-brutalization.

  Flesh ripping.

  Bones snapping.

  Anything to remain chaste.

  For their eyes constantly wander.

  In fear that others will see.

  Their sinful ways.

  Soon the machine and robed figure find themselves at the cusp of the city.

  The figure points to the continuance of the golden path.

  All it had to do was follow it.

  And it would be able to continue.

  However, something stopped the machine.

  Curiosity some would say.

  Others say it was simply the pursuit of knowledge.

  But the machine knew what it felt at that moment.

  The robed figure, long gone by now.

  Upon seeing the stresses of these people.

  Their brutalization of others.

  To themselves.

  It only brought a heavy feeling to the machine.

  A burdensome feeling.

  Its computational ability, unable to process these feelings.

  The machine could only bring itself to have one answer.

  It will do its best to help.

  As it has done thus far.

  Yet unknown to the machine another awakens.

  One of pure white.

  Steel reconvened.

  Made for death.

  Its mission far too different to the black machine across the gate.

  Made with human features.

  A face which threatens even that of the greatest of beasts.

  This creature here not to send a message.

  But to send a warning.

  Not of peace.

  But of war.

  Humanity pays its respects to the afterlife.

  Not in love.

  But in hate.

  Words fallen on deaf ears for far too long.

  Perhaps the one above all.

  Requires to bleed.

  To hear his weeping children.

  And so the machine of war exits its room.

  Understanding what will have to be done.