The great machine of the world turns.
Spinning gears slice through puffs of steam;
Clattering chains dance with power lines.
An endless sea of motion and noise.

As parts rust, collapse, crumble,
Stripped and faded by entropy's embrace,
So too new constructions emerge –
Sharp angles and polished steel.

Blind machinists tinker with cogs and circuits,
Workers toil silently to maintain, to build.
A mindless worship of a mindless machine.

In quiet corners we watch, entranced,
Or from high aerials appreciate the view.
Wanderers amidst the clockwork tides.