Gargoyle

Grinding in the rusted old gears

When they snap into release

machine lurching forward

Igniting the innermost  caprice

To extinguish all those forgotten tears

As we appropriate the meshing inner accord

Surely it can Fuse into something

More or less what’s calling

Though it’s not what I was hunting

 With this deficient prize I can easily afford

The lights fled outwardly sprawling

For the decadent dance

of the phantom

in their absent trance

their dreams remained falling

although their hands traversed the chasm

their human form spelled ire

in the tide of exhaust

the gargoyles upon the pyre  

vapid voyeur s enraptured in tantrum

where the currency of the day is the accost

the rabid mind will have to rely

hoping  that more appears

behind the fantastical wandering eye

the fourth dimension of where our lives crossed