The Machinery - Poem
The finer interest,
That deviced the machinery.
The clogs that covered it,
Ended up being clogged.
With a millions ways to drop,
They turned strong.
They turned heavy,
The minute they became mindful.
A fact that no one,
Ever felt the need to look at.
Here they lay,
As they lay in wait.
A thing of great power,
It stood in wait.
Waited for years at end,
For it's true master to take control.
It was time,
After a long last.
The true master was around,
That was it was that it was time.
It rose,
Right into the sky.
Ready to take charge,
Ready to take over.