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Patina pistons pulse

Pumping fire through widened veins,

Smoke screaming steam

Pounding in my brain,

Screeching, ‘On, on, on’

Through valley and cutting

And open-armed homes.

Black-hearted coal

Feeds the belly insatiable,

‘This is not love. This is not love.’

Over mountain and plane

Its roar rumbles on,

Driving the beast as it chokes

Never stopping, never slowing.

Clinker clattering the iron road

Its destination distant disguised,

Fate fuelling the fire

Scorching its path to nowhere,

Screeching, ‘On, on, on’

As flailing arms and voices

Disintegrate beneath steam.

 

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