heat from the sun. heat from hell. i forge my soul. the metal bends at my will. molten, liquid life hardens inside of me. my heart pumps again. i will make it. i am metal. i have my machine. i am mechanical terror. i am industrial agony. i am reborn. i am yours. my blood is no more. oil courses through my veins. i excrete lubricants and my machine intiates. the metal glistens and shines as the sun blazes down on me. i am top of the line. i am perfect. the earth holds me no more. i am god. i am mechanical terror. i am industrial agony. i am reborn. i am yours. my body works as well as it was crafted. my sensors registers pain but i remain operational. the functions of my machine slow. my sensors register nothing. everything turns black: the clouds, the sun and heavens. Not a third time! Not again. i am mechinal terror. t am industrial agony. i am reborn. i am yours. my machine has failed. i can't win. am i not good enough? am i not rightous enough for you? no loves you more than i do. i will show you. my last idea strikes. i will win. i will become death. i will become sin. i will become sin. i will become sin. i will become sin.
Reason for writing:
This poem is part three of a four poem cycle. I'm sure
it doesn't make much sense but hopefully it will incourage
you to visit my home page, Inane @ http://ezinfo.ucs.indiana.edu.
Birth sign: Not entered
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