Beyond the rusted gate that whispers of me to enter, Round the turning stairs that lead to the cloisters, Through the turret archway where the spiraling steps lead to a chamber, Ripping open the bolted door and staring at the dying embers of a fire. I scanned the charred room that had once been ablaze, I caught a glance of cloth and chorde I kicked aside the ashes that obscured I chanced upon a sack and let its content spill forth. Little wheels made from tempered steel, Brandishing teeth and knashing each against each. Little wheels that spun and gleamed and danced their way inside me; I was soon to be opened to this mechanical technology. Tottering with grinding hip and clockwork limb Tottering like a toy that was wound up within Tottering back and forth across scaffolds Tottering down step and stair to an old abandoned chapel Within the austere walls another sack made its way to me I opened the chorde and was showered by the sparks, out they poured, From within the burning haze they danced their way into my brain. I was soon to be opened to this electrical technology. Staggering with trembling lip and jolting limb, Staggering like a clockwork toy that couldn't stop shaking, Staggering as my mind ran ablaze with the ideas within.