To My Machine
You grand wonderful machine,
Offspring of mans creative thought,
What's that bright side has in you,
That men have continually sought?
Your window is an entrance gate ,
Of faraway dimensions,
Your words sometimes allure,
Your hands comply missions,
Have you been designed to see,
To hear and feel like me?
Or are you of the spirits,
Who Could ruin life in minutes?
What is man that you obey,
The folly of his commands?
Who can take that driving key,
From his quick divisive hands?
What's in you that turns their mind?
What's in you that makes them blind?
For some are embolden to shun,
The law of of the great creator one,
Some boasts of your existence,
Opt to think they've changed the world,
Trample values and all abhorrence,
Convinced that you've it out of mode,
My beautiful grand machine,
How I wish you've been designed,
Not just to trace what's right or wrong ,
But help them change their mind,
Be it done 'tween you and me,
I'll write the warn you send the words,
Their wickedness may they will see,
Help them turn back to the Lord,