covered in the dust of lying & deceiving years.
rusted through with selfishness & apathy.
a piece of junk that passer's by would discard at first glance.
He awaits the spark.
the inclination in our motherboards that seeks retribution.
the second that flint is fired, we come alive.
the dust and rust shake free
& revolutions begin a slow spin.
something that took years to mar & batter
becomes pristine again in the blink of an eye.
the spark, the inclination...starts in us.
i choose.
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