A new trial, I’m experimenting with poetry as well as flash fiction. As usual, any feedback is well-received (positive or negative). Read on;
Machines play havoc to the burning beards
Of old forgotten wisdom.
Fire sparked by the friction of moving times;
It’s light reflected through progress’ prism.
A flame that burns in hearts of pioneers
Cradled by Prometheus, pushing forth,
And those opposed who choose to close their ears
Do nothing but to watch themselves engulfed.
Ahead, a land inevitable looms
The shape of which is his yet to decide;
Each crafter, dreamer illumines ahead,
A Mammon in his shining crown of wires.