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