The once natural hum of my person now metallic.

The once red blood of my heart now black.

A machine to be used and oiled and kept.

No longer a whim, a whisper on the wind.

 

The fire once bright on the starlit beach,

Now burns in the belly of an iron clad beast.

My eyes once bright with the light of dawn,

Now wince with the smoke from the polluted air.

 

The days weren’t bright, nor the night dark

Just a color kin to my small, still heart

Pale and weak, no longer bursting with song

An automaton to be hidden with the rest.

 

A metal-clad throng, my company is.

Our steps ring harsh and hollow, like our hearts and eyes.

The motion is empty, the meaning lost,

We march for a master, who will lead us into a trap

 

Where are my bones? And my tender flesh?

It’s all hidden beneath these silver panes.

Or are they gone, like the bird of hope?

Freed of the cage, which was wanted for it’s frame.

 

All is lost for a greater cause,

A goal down the road, known only by a whisper.

One step ahead to reach where the others are

But where do they go if not ever on?

 

My telltale light and my telltale song

Only as real as the Tell Tale heart.

A ghost, a whim of what was sacrificed.

For the greater good, if not only mine.