MAELSTROM II
In the maelstrom…
Black inferno machines are one.
In the belly of the maelstrom, they rise,
And nothing is compromised
Black inferno machine
Shadows against the night,
Engines of hunger, devouring, a heavy sigh
An iron orchestra playing a requiem to the stars.
They are born from the marrow of oblivion,
Grinding gears forged, forgotten gods!
Sparks that kiss the void, and it grinds back!
Breathing fire through the hallow wind.
Whispers of rust and iron sang like prayers.
In languages of smoke, oil & rust
Their pistons pump a heartbeat of chaos,
Unseen, unfelt, but everywhere. At once!
Men in black cloaks,...suspicious eyes,
lords of crimes, and dire deeds....
of the broken god mended,
ride atop the blackened machines!
Each one is a cathedral of darkness, & dominion!
American Empirical madness never ends.
A labyrinth of wires, burning veins of desire—
Lurkers in the void, chasing echoes of eternity.
On roads paved with the bones of suns.
Haunting, they drift through the thick tar sky,
Tires crushing the silence, grinding ash.
Night bends beneath their weight.
Time is a brittle thing, shattered, erased.
A storm, painted in cracked coal and amber flame,
Pulse of the apocalypse wrapped in steel.
Wheels turn like the ticking of a dead man’s clock,
Hauling the endless dead behind them.
Only the blackened n ruined sun knows the truth,
Hidden deep in the furnace of creation.
Black Inferno Machines feast forever
Turning
Yearning
Burning…
Copyright © Poet Tellaferro | Year Posted 2024
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