The rusted chains grind against each other
Causing the audience to grimace as
Metallic saliva fills their throats

The curtains retract revealing an old machine
A relic of some prosperous past
Inching its way
Across an unrecognizable road

Something once glorious
Now dilapidated

In the distance
Stands a vaguely familiar figure
Waiting

The chains continue to grind
Worn bare, weakened
Caught in an unforgiving battle
One that is already lost

And still in the distance
A vaguely familiar figure
Waits
Knowing it’s only a matter of time
Until the battle is over

At the precise, predetermined moment
The worn chains snap into a billion pieces
Leaving the machine assailable

While the vaguely familiar figure
Swiftly moves in for the kill

Curtains close
The audience weeps

sc2015