Minds Like Machines

Some can still hear it, you know
That luscious, decadent grinding of gears
Though we still recall a time
Where these beasts of war saw no light
Saw no existence, but the horror festered
And festered
Brains grew incompetent, but the gears around them
They were still turning
Pistons pumping deviously
Cogs colliding with each other with roaring metallic clangs
And as the brains took heed of the machines
They themselves collapsed, met by a wave of rust
And neglect
And disrespect
They stopped, cold in their mindless tracks
The revelation could be seen by the pure, and the intelligent
Smells of cold iron heavy in the acrid air
Hungry for power, and stricken aside by sloth,
The brains melted, pleaded for a more advanced machine
The gears turned faster, the pistons louder
Alas, minds still thirsty for power
Yet crippled far beyond ability to search and strive for it
But when the gates swung open,
Welcoming a new eon of thinking,
Where these wretched, horrid machines,
They have no sound
They have no use
Their existence ended, their gears exhausted
Yet, the concept of intellect has a kingdom
Inside, its records written, and its arsenals of words and virtues
Ready at the sound of a horn,
Shall the gears with their distinct iron roars,
Ever be heard again

Remembrance is painful, sometimes
But as the pen is touched to paper, history is declared
But not only declared, kept
Not only kept, heeded, and listened to
We still remember those machines
Where waking up, fear and panic was discarded
Replaced with a sensation of protection
Yet it was naive of previous generations to assume,
That such, was followed by no repercussion
Even today, we still taste their grit
Strong, self-indulgent
But addicting, and infectious
They say if you still listen close
You can hear the gears getting closer by
Rustling,
Strengthening,
Conspiring...