Building a Better Machine

Body black with the soot that pours from

Chimneys, gears grinding away as the

Great beast rakes the ground with claws, dragging

It’s body towards Bethlehem

 

But does it have to be this way?

Must a beast slouch? Must a body crawl?

Couldn’t it be made to walk, to run?

Why is it dead things that fuel it?

 

Imagine this great engine better

A colossus crossing new lands

Not because they said it couldn’t be done

But because standing tall is worthy in itself

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