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"Symphonic Microcosm"
15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkNikZBWyyv
A whirling sentinel of brass and gears,
Winding down into a pattern,
Forever spinning wheels in motion,
A dance of time, like a hour glass ocean.
A bow strikes the strings of vacate violins,
Echoing whispers of forgotten strings
Bass drums thrum without a hand to strike,
Yet resonate deep tone, sounding like a distant earthquake.
Endless cymbals stretch as far as the eye can see,
Their shimmering presence, and ghostly gears turn endlessly.
Harp strings vibrate with not a finger's touch,
A symphony of empty of musicians.
In the heart of this gear driven machine, shadows play,
Pistons pumping in a mechanical opus,
Flutes weave through the air, soft as a sigh,
Clouds of steam cover the star covered dark sky.
My goggles gleam in the dim, flickering light,
As cogs and wheels turn, igniting the night,
A clarion call from the depths of pits of steam and gears and whistles near.
Echoes of a song never heard before carried by the storm seen in the distant fields of wheat.
The orchestra swells, a tide of sound, and rumbles of drums in a near chasm below my feet.
In this symphony of stillness, we are unbound,
Each note a heartbeat, each pause a breath,
In the silence between, we confront our death.
Yet in this vast chamber, life finds its way,
In the symphonic gear driven machine, we dance and sway,
With gears that grind and steam that hisses,
We craft our fate in the rhythm of wishes and dreams we can't see but only hear.
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ns3.17.153.20da2
