Unlocked The mechanism's gears turn In their graves of rust These ancient turbines Will breathe coal-thick darkness again The cryptic thing lurches forward A rhythm set in motion Amidst stillness and decay
Those buried within its confines Have long-since been dust-swallowed Withering amongst their inscriptions These beings engraved this mockery of science Deep within her flesh, the soil of earth
Behind iron hide, the ghosts of their will remain This structure of a lesser cause In making of a decadent vision
Their will be served for the gears They turn once more
How could but men build this?
Its cause consumes my whole For it is unknown to me But this machine shall serve its purpose Whatever that may be Whatever hell I summon Shall be wielded as my harbinger
