Rumble of Engines

Firing the raging forces of chemical warfare in every cylinder Upon collision of these particles An offspring of mechanical movement is born from the rigours of combustion It has strokes for a pulse It eclipses shyly over the tar of the freeway I was told on it's fourth It moves. Today I'm petrified by the rumble of engine and metal A well painted box with four wheels that is to swallow us whole An Uber that savors the highway to my coffin I wonder if the vehicle that is to unmake me is made yet The Japanese are probably working on it as I speak Are my to be afraid of the silver that lines my own pockets For we created this We are a generation of steel and engine I hope to place the letters RIP on my plate To remind myself of how it is to end as I climb this beast.