Echelons of Empire

I Old blood… Old money… Old power... Rule the city shadowed in pale mist Of a winter storm. I watch as the city emerges like a phantom from a white cloud. I see the echelons of its empire... I feel the rot at its foundation's Tangled root.. Old blood of ancient generation's Greed and corruption bleed into the Land's Soul. Old money flows from the backs of the damned! II The broken...The insane! The forgers of Iron. The Lord's of the Industry. The archaic engineers of the Machine. That breath black vapor of hot steel Hells. Old POWER Crackles and flows... It eddies and pluses. III Dark blood, Black Power, Bleak wealth.. Its buys.. It controls and corrupts the ages past Tomorrows kingdoms. Like the slow rhyhmic hum... Of a deep leviathan...I feel this cities heart. I touch its cracked veneerer. I know its secrets of shame and glory. I walk its streets. I see its denizens. IV The poor..? The Energy. The sacrificed! Old blood… Old money… Old power... Rule the city shadowed in pale mist Of a winter storm. I watch as the city emerges like a phantom from a white cloud. I see the echelons of its empire. The Ancient gray ghostly fortress at the rim of thoughts Realms. Feeling the power!