The Machine

by Al

Its wheels are slowly grinding, its new life has begun; Centuries have left it dead, hidden within the sun....

Screeeeeeeeeeeech... it calls to all- leaving no soul left behind. Millions will be beckoned, but very few will find the source of their agony- the aching in their brain that will put a smile on their face ( the look of the insane).

Searching for salvation, salvation of the mind, is a very lonely path when there's nothing left to find.  Many have tried to shut it down, have gotten all the way to the place where it screams, encompassed in it's play....

Few have ever touched it- and beware to those who do- your heart must be genuine and your feelings must be true.  For if they are and you answer the puzzle it will ask, its wheels will stop turning finally finished with their task.

But take head, my friend, no one has ever found the answer to the question that has always been around....

So its wheels keep turning, as it will always be, planting its seed of evil and twisting humanity....

So goes the machine.

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