The Human Machine

There is a rusted machine in the floral rubble.
There is a dislodged gear in the human machine.
There is a broken cog with the label of 'God'.
There is an end to those with means.

There is an artist held captive in heart after heart.
There is a sickly engineer lost in thought.
There is a superhero for every sorrow.
There is a face borne from all which we've wrought.

There is a time to replace your maker.
There is a silence which must be sated.
There is a device to make the plot worthwhile.
You are the human machine you create.