Engines of Entropy

Machines make it all so easy
like a walk in the park
until our laces and bindings and soles come apart.
Once we reach the top, we know what we'll find--
because we keep finding it again and again...
and you were walking with me once, let us go together
again...let me see your hair move gentle in the wind:
blend with me
bend with me
break with me...follow Deschain
down the long dry dusty plain
There's just too much light...it's everywhere.
The yellow sun looks almost white at noon
as it casts unshadows thick in the dirty air.
The end of ten thousand years comes all too soon.

The wheel keeps turning and turning and turning and turning
like gears in the machine grinding fine the good intentions
of the well-meaning...slaving away and paving the high road to hell.
An eloquent entropy is this creation: full of harmony and history,
armies and hysteria, excess and elation.

I want to ask her if she did it out of pity
but on second thought i realize that i don't really care why.
Black smoke rises thick around me like a sweater
and i long to breath the free air, no matter how cold:
                     unbound, unfound, and unfettered.
The smoke clings to me choking me stinging my eyes
making me feel something not quite like myself
          like something old.

23 Dec 2010