The Light Leads The Way

Only the burning wick leads the way.

One flickering light guiding an voyage to the end.

Ominously dancing above the heads of men as wax drips upon the holders brow.

Ordinary in every part of its being, but obliviously these men will defend.

Trekking furiously; every second counts.

Their path? For righteousness as their time sheds to the ground.
The flame grows dim and some men begin to air their doubts.

Cannot turn back, but afraid that with all their energy, nothing will be found.

Just a few obstacles left between them and glory as the last morsel of guidance is melted.

Swallowed by darkness is the fate for these men.

Lost, as their lives dripped away to never be seen again.

Robotic

Left to fend for its self.

A wrench in the gears leaves an empty vessel.

Stuck in its needed position; to resilient to help.

All systems shutting down; no fighting this inevitable outcome to settle.

The sun begins to settle.

The lights behind its eyes begin to fade.

As memory recalls, standards were not met.

This is't the end of this machine; not why it was made.

The sun beams on this creation as the oil of life is dribbled upon its limbs.

The power of hope begins to pulse through its empty shell.

Forgiveness and punishment now run the internal system; creating its own understanding of fate and sins.

Compassion and sorrow fill its processor, allowing all emotion to prevail.

Pride breaks this assumed pose and allows this machine to march to its own beat.

Love seeps to the head sockets, giving the glow back to this machines eyes.

The machine works and the blueprints have been ignored; every sheet.

"I AM ALIVE"