Parables in plenitude

P1: To be a man or a machine; it is the question ahead.
I love the precision and velocity of animated lifer;
yet strong resolve acknowledges the humane aspirations.
Being a wave living the darkness of matter is not easy.
Always I love to call a fade a spade.
My intellectectua;l constructions spade at tules.
Theory of rigid love seems to be reaching nowhere.
Music is a mix of madness and melody. 
Clarity is nor always rhythm.

P2: Yet all if us need impulses from ddreams and desires.
One green channe; awaits everyone.
Perhaps we need to understand
veins of our earth in a deeper way.
I need to rock many solids in my complex nature.
Special songs can wait till envision a garden of wise flowers.
Plenitude are angels;
but the road leads through uncharted territories.

P3: Words in the digital life traverse quietly.
All the eyes are running the imageries.
Spellbound terrains dictates the solitude of netizen.
He himself hamngs imn passwords.
Hungry, he/she encapsulates their profiles.
Wonderrs of wisdom forgets the wickedness of past.
Semantics of money are plenty, that much I know.
Captured are young, modern are the aged
but nascent chains awaits everyone.