Mechanical Painting Made by Man

Mechanical Painting Made by Man

Beneath a sky painted in gold,

where dust sings hymns to days untold,

a creation stands on crimson stone,

crafted not of flesh, nor bone. just paint

Its wheels engrave the barren sand,

a scholar’s touch, a painters hand,

mapping silence, tracing scars,

whispering secrets to the stars.

No saints or seraphs light its way,

no God to hear, no psalm to pray.

Yet in its frame the thing lives.

A dream built by human wrists.

A child of fire, of dust and spark,

painting light within the dark.

Beneath a sky of molten gold,

where dust sings hymns to days untold,

Monster truck on crimson stone,

crafted not of flesh, or bone

not steel and wire, just painted sky’s,

reflected as the painting dries.

Its wheels engrave the barren sand,

a scholar’s touch, a painters hand,

mapping silence, painting with scars,

whispering secrets to the stars.

No saints or seraphs light its way,

no God to hear, no psalm to pray.

Yet in its canvas a creation persists,

by human hands and clenched fists.

A child of fire, of dust and spark,

painting light within the dark.