They first noticed creepers crawling
into the dingy depths of caves -
impossibly feeding on that rich darkness.
Something was out of balance.
Something was wrong in the machine -
the one they called it the engine of evil -
and either it was running over the redline,
or its counterpart was faltering.
Either way,
All for lack of a mechanic.
This entry was posted in poem, Poetry and tagged poem, poetry by B Gourley. Bookmark the permalink.
