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…grinds beneath a sky with blackened stars,
Its gears churn slow, relentless, fevered rot.
Time dips into a thick ooze, bleeding from rusted teeth,
Each second, screams swallowed in an iron maw.
Shadow-like vines twist through the body politic. A host!
…pulsing, throbbing, whispering names forgotten,
Echoes of hearts that never beat.
Whispering of storms unborn, misbegotten.
Its breath is sulfur, ruin, rage n raw
Exhaled into cracks, of this a dying world.
It feeds on whispers, on things unsaid,
on the cold memory of touch,
Fingers brushing dust that once was flesh.
Eyes, red as scorched earth, blink.
in the spaces between the broken cogs,
Where souls caught, tangled wire armature!
A brief flicker, then silence, lost.
Machine alive, devours all! 
Life as a sickness dwells here,
An infection of the void.
It crawls beneath the skin of the earth
It slithers into the bones of the damned
Speaks dreams riddles sewn in blood.
Nothing escapes its allure, no light, no prayer,
Nor gods carved in stone by blackened hands.
Worlds bend, it folds in on itself,
And the stars, once witnesses, are devoured
One by one.
Beneath the machine, a breath most foul
A wasteland where time forgets nothing
Where shadows flee
Where bones of empires decree
Their confessions, old…
Into the quiet of the deep, unholy, sacred dark. 
Something sees, grinning sinisterly!

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