POEM
Down Below a dreadfull moon dog's danced
Dark figures dredged throughout the night to their labor
The moon was a deamon's eye illuminating the farmers filed.
Thoughtless atomotons turn to the task at hand
Ready to reap their nightly harvest.
The fast and veried machine's floundered to mechanical life
tired machines made their task fast
slowly the deamons eye set and the hevans blead
tired eyes drifted to survey their task
much to do with little time.
AN-I GOT BORED SO I DECIDED TO WRITE A DEPRESSING POEM...DONT JUDGE.