Dying Breed

As the metal that shone like lacquered glass Corroded to rust; As the pistons that moved like silvery silk, Fell to halt; As the engines that throbbed like teenage sex, Crumbled to dust; As the petrol that flowed like molten fire Turned to salt. As the wheels that spun like chariot hubs Froze and stilled; As the windows that gleamed like polished ice Spider-web cracked; As the oil that seeped a Midas stream Drained and spilled; As the headlights that shone like replica suns Dimmed and blacked. As the leather that glistened with waxen coats Split and dulled; As the fuses and wires that once were live Burned and blew; As the dynamos that roared and screamed out loud, Hushed and lulled, As exhausts that once blasted fire and smoke Rotted through. As these sculptures of beauty that poised on tyres Slumped and sank; As these icons of heritage wild and proud, Eternally slept; As the last drops of fuel that drove the dreams Bled from each tank; Here the scrap-yards of reason are all that remain, Are all we kept.