The Machine

This machine has a propensity for self annihilation.
Built on the precipice of civilization.
A delicate balancing act, always shifting in the wind,
The 19th century saw the growth of weights as pressure mounted
thousands fought thousands for the survival of a handful.
The 20th century left the balance slipping,
weapons never seen blinded the world.
The 21st century seems to spell doom.
As the scales bend and break under new pressures,
man vs nature,
nation vs self,
leader vs follower.

This machine has a propensity for beauty,
    hidden in its gears.
A world unknown, pressured by war, but protected from death.
No machine has brought more joy while killing so much.
This machine has a propensity to give up.

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