Ruminations of a Broken Boy

I had no idea the direction this was going, as can be seen. It was written during my steampunk phase, in hopes to spark my interest in pursuing a steampunk/petrolpunk mining novella.

Like an ethereal fist piston punching my parade
I’d walk to the end of my lonesome days
Is it the man or the machine that drives on
Am I a fleshy lump or some skin-cloaked automaton?
I can question who I am, likewise who I could be
As I’m still trying to find the one deep inside of me.
With gears and cogs, heart and soul
Whether blood may pump, or belts may roll
I’m a being of man’s own make.
I’m prone to human error, yet a machine may not make mistake.
So does that mean I’m man, he who is known for failing?
I must be, look now, my thoughts are trailing…
But if so, why is my bone of brass and tin?
And why does a furnace fuel my body from within?
What room does God have for a boy made metal
And for whose name did my creator decide to meddle?
I eat coal, I breathe steam, but I flow with a passion no man could create
My mind pulses with a hunger no book could satiate.
I’m told it’s all just a delusion of grandeur I placed upon myself
Either way, I suppose, in the end, free-thought is a good enough cause for my body to be scattered upon this shelf.

Reviews

[LazyxBum]

Wow, this is really good. At least, I think so.... :3
Welcome to the cafe. I can't wait to see what you write later on. ^-^

[Emily B]

Ruminations, that's a great word to employ in a title, I don't think I see it often enough. Welcome to the cafe. . . looking forward to seeing the contributions you make to this place.