the machine
i feel the clanking metals calling upon me
in tongues of roaring engines
i feel the streaks of lights swallowing me
the winds washing over me
the wheels wishing for me
i feel my soaring wings
piercing through this leather jacket
i feel this gear wrapping my skull
i feel it much more than my own skin
much like an extension of me
and i feel this machine is one with me
like exoskeleton or a parasitic disease
this is what i ought to be
the machine, it's calling for me
and i'm not leaving it to ring