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