Foundry of the Night

With a surreptitious quiver on a dark and gloomy night There lies a place of shadows hidden far away from sight The hissing of the steamy pipes, the rattle of the iron Send shivers down your waken spine and terrors through your mind This old, decrepit foundry working swiftly late at night The cogs are spinning, winding wheels and turn forever tight Down the depths, this murky canyon, far away from light Bereft of life, it lurks, forging horrors out of spite Where no one goes and no one cares to see it after dark There’s nothing to protect you there - no angels dare to lark Past the fiery pits of steel, beyond the sullen shadows A pair of evil, crimson eyes are watching through the windows Sitting, watching, waiting for the scamper of a mouse Then pouncing on whatever stirs that intrudes into its house The gongs of metal drums fill the rusty, stale air To invite the iron crowd that lives and works here in despair At once the factory comes alive with clinking, clashing sounds To reveal the drones of brass inside this dank, old, tarnished town A roar of screeching metal bellows through the twisted halls And the people made of steel all whimper, waiting for a pause “Play is over, time to work”, they amble back in fright For no-one dares to challenge him - this landlord of the night They drift into the shadows of the forge from whence they came Forgotten by the sleeping world and never seen again So back inside your cosy bed and save yourself the fright And forget about the terrors of the foundry of the night 10-Apr-2014