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The Engine

The engine. Black smooth and ornate Eons in its design. Hell glows at its heart Gears grind, turning into the void; sublime. Darkness hunts, Something drums... Springs, Rings, Mechanical Parts. Churn, Burn, turns... They labor deep in the dark... Onyx chrome sleek and full of mystery. Eternal Engines deities. Sparks fly, a roar deeply shakes... The secret earth coil tightens. Energy is loose... Entangled minds, That ponder and aspire. Madness at matter. All that is hidden All that's desired. Deep; unmoved soul It waits and conspires. Mysteries of the engines eons fold. Dark, intricately carved by a divine hand. A talented mechanical mind. Humans with nothing to hold Secrets of infinities coil... A hand bleeds bold. Of things humming in the dark... With hell that is its heart Crimson and amber bright Aglow in the sacred night. Buried deep within oblivion eons-long Gears grind turning to the void, sublime. Casting visions into the cold… Creation marches to the song Of spheres, as gods steer engines blaze. JET

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

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Date: 4/17/2021 5:33:00 PM
This poem has a lovely feeling to it.
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