it is addressed thusly:
An ode.
it reads:
Dark, black coal - a strange unburden
Of the earth's yet stranger heart
We know little of the sudden wording
Which when suddenly pulled apart
The dun and drab earth's grimy hull
The man, inadvertant, might so call
"black gold!" to the pitchdark smart
Through which his ax duly did fall;

The fuel of a man's dreams, what is it
To the Victorian, a world of steam
Of power that is brute, not exquisite
No more chained to beast or to stream
A mere rock! But full of bright fire
Or its response did justly inspire
A clockwork world of alien dream
Wheels within wheels of inhuman desire;

And in the now, man is made penitent
Retreating from his idols of yore
But not toward God is his rede sent
For was God made wroth over ore?
He turns from bright fire to the sod
But the snows don't consider it odd--
He worships sun and wind all the more
Not knowing -- an ape, not a god.


  1. I see steampunk. Great imagery and evocation. Thank you.

    1. There was supposed to be more about snow in it, but I don't control the stream completely.


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