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…