machinations spiraling and winding

expansion grinds on eternally trampling all it creates while twisting the mind indefinitely

from what tunnel does the god of gears speak?

from what pipe dream do his heralds clamber and aggrandize

they call us canarys but from which mine must we decease

what blood makes our machine run smooth

with what clockwork wings does our god of gears fly

does he fear the dripping of the pipes

does he too pray against the rust

does his mind twist forever into itself upon thoughts forbidden and forgotten

from what uproot does he derive

upon what meat does this our ceasar feed

the god of gears will one day cry out as his tunnel floods

the heralds pyrite smiles will wither and grind down to nothing

the canary flies forth as the rock breach his walls

but from what tunnel does the god of gears speak?

One that the heralds failed to gild

One that needeth be reinforced further