Machine MAG

February 3, 2018
By TheFades BRONZE, Houston, Texas
TheFades BRONZE, Houston, Texas
3 articles 2 photos 0 comments

Counting backwards in twelves,

Counting every sixth as a dream,

The dreams aren't live

but they feel so.


Touch the fertile soil,

Make a home from coal,

burn the fertile soil.


Make a home from bloody silk,

and live your life piling lives.

Make a bridge above the universe,

And build a latter to the sun

Out of the soft fertile soil.


It has been done,

There is no one but us,

Counting backwards in twelves

On dead burning dust.

The author's comments:

It's basically about a person who dreams unrealistically about their dreams, and how they daydream their dream job to be in the future. The fertile soil is the influence of other people, the coal house is the allusion that the person is working hard, yet it is a lie for the fertile soil is actually the one being used as a resource. They imagine themselves as rich and powerful, with the use of a person's influence by his side at all times. Yet, it is reminded that it's all in their head, and that they only have influence over people who were already influenced by other aspects of life.

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