The magnanimous of the mechanical mind

Grinding cogs of consequence, oiled by temporal decay.
Slowly churning, teeth biting into another wasted day.
Bitter redemption, as the gears turn, another micron passed as the passing years burn.

What is thought, but a puff of smoke, stroking the driving cylinders.
Giving hope delusion, giving us another day.

Dare not stop, daren't think, must not stop, never consider, too soon to contemplate, what fate has in store.
We dance this universe macabre, knowing that tomorrow, will become today, alas yesterday will be long gone.
Another step in the waltz, another shuffle for our minds, to our finale it binds.

Ok, this needs a little honing, not bad for a moment of divergent thought.


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