Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Machinations

You can hear that monster wailing
by the river to the south
with smoky tendrils trailing
as they issue from its mouth

the early morning sun's reflected
off its gleaming hide
denied to those protected
as they're taken for a ride

There are no knights or wizards
to slay this chugging beast
which gorges on our gizzards
as we blindly fuel the feast.

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