The pump squeezes more of the fluid
Crimson in appearance
It is a soft thing
The heart beats soft
But a machine is a machine
And a heart grows cold without a soul
I wonder when this heart will die once more
Only to beat again like a drum
The eternal engine, the machine still pumps

But it is not forever
The valves rust over
the poison wax and rust finally take control
The red is black with bile
the electric beat slows down
In the dark of the heart, it drowns
Forgive the life lived
It was too much yet not near enough
The pump churns never again, not anymore