The Melancholy and the Pale Machinery Part Iv

Of pale melancholy And the infinite fall Of broken machinery Cast upon vast shores Decimation reservation The prodigal son returns Jagged reigns of jaded egos Amber suns stretching upon seas of sanctuary Blue oysters cast a cult of personality Here is where the mechanicals recoiled Gears turned deep inside the obelisk Onyx realms reaching to monolithic cities Blacken the sky is on fire of desolations dawn Volumes fills my fancies with arcane dreams Milky white universe’s immaculate ejaculate dynastic Covers pale melancholy machinery of it… Drips and drains into serenity Tides borne cryptic things from ancient depths Fathoms different shores Odd engines images forges, engages, enrages Facades of the Deities Castings from altered shores Drudged up in desolate depths Dark quagmires in nightmares explore The Melancholy and pale machines implore Something fetal feral twisted engorged An abomination spills upon the floor A pale machine of marrow and blood In spines broken bones Hooked finger Nails Nine Inches long Pitch black eyes watch a haloed star Of holocaustic blooms In infernal flowers, flames, flurries Something seeps, creeps, down deep, furies Lurches on to heavens door Breeds, seeds, forsaken monstrosities Of pale machinery and mythic beings, The melancholy of humanity, A pale something expires Eternal winter of Broken Machinery cast upon vast moonlit shores Where am I