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Steam Engine Junior
He was powered by steam,
and through his propulsion, found walls
as an obstacle to be torn through, vandalized;
turned to shrapnel strewn across factory floors.
Organic of mind with steel slighting nerves,
and lucid in complex of what he has rights to;
his mechanical strides would be taken much further,
depending on variables and moments in time.
A gangling, flesh-ridden machine,
which possessed a great mind and a solitary heart,
set course for unknowable and unforseen change.
Upon carrying route, he fell to malfunction.
The water of innards had escaped or gone dry
through leaks in his core and down his old stratum,
leaving him weighed by the modus and modifiers
which had allowed him 'til now to travel so far.
The steam which had risen, expanding his limbs,
had fallen to strings of dew and slick vapor
which pittered from excess, gorging on farse,
or simply had loosened and departed from use.
And with loss of function, came loss of his strength,
which drained in an instant and pinned him beneath
the weight of his metal, the gorge of his ply,
the rapid recession of his will to continue.
He had striven for precious, forgotten light,
which could act as a fuel and a way to escape
this logic monstrosity of which he was trapped
within it by program, by virtue, by choice.
The glow had gone faded, shielded by hinge
of the door that had only seemed open for minutes.
And with its one exit came purpose renewed,
and with its new barrier came eternal in question.
Still on two feet, gravity beckons
and calls for his rest below exterior press.
Sweat stinks of rust and breathing has quickened,
the whining and clinking will rattle his ears.
Gears begin failing, pores of exhaust,
last bit of steam will sputter and vent;
collapse will occur, profoundly and soon,
and shut down will be welcomed by he who has failed.
