The World Machine (a poem)

This a poem I wrote to help wrap my mind around a story concept I recently came up with. For context it’s told from the perspective of a small, primitive, tribal civilization on an alien planet. Please be sure to tell me what you think.


#The World Machine

Metal spire
Higher higher
So many things
That we inquire

We cannot tell its occupation
Does it bring pain or salvation
Death is it’s only destination
Feed the beast
No complications

Pray and pray every night
Pray you do not see its light

Hear its song
You’ll be gone
The cycle just goes on and on

Metal spire
We inquire
Tell us
What’s your true desire

Feed the beast
Satisfy
The World Machine won’t be denied

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I’m intrigued. I want to know more about this World Machine.

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Why I’m glad you asked! When I initially came up with the story concept I wrote out a description. Surprisingly in 2nd person perspective. This entire thing just flows from my mind to the keys in peculiar ways. Anyway, here’s what I have at the moment. Describing not only the machine, but the world in general.


From the moment you land on the planet, it all seems off. There’s lots of flourishing plants around. Grass, flowers, and trees everywhere. But its all so quiet. A landscape that should be sprawling with life and activity, but the air is stiff and dead.

Metal spires stretch into the sky, only a dozen or so you can see around you. They seem about the same distance from each other, but they’re placement is random. Stretches of alien machinery run in straight lines from one spire to another. A cold wind blows through the valley and sends a chill down your spine.

Suddenly you feel something behind you. You whirl around. The unexpected presence of anything, but all you see is the familiar rolling hills and more spires in the distance. Without much else to do, you explore.

As you pass the machinery, it seems extremely complicated and detailed. Though you couldn’t possibly tell what it was suppose to do. The stark contrast of the silver metal to the vibrant green grass was unsettling in a way you couldn’t completely wrap your mind around at the moment.

Continuing on, you eventually reach the edge of a forest. A small village with creatures about half your size walk around going about their day. Blue skin, four arms, orange hair, and simple cloths. The buildings simple, made of wood and large leaves. These creatures were clearly primitive.

You try talking to one of the locals, hoping to find out what was wrong with this place. Your translation unit allows for the conversation to be relatively seamless.

They call they array of spires and lines The World Machine. It never does anything. It leaves them alone and they leave it alone. With one exception. Every once in a while in the middle of the night, the tip of the closest spire emits a bright green light, and a low hum fills the valley. One individual in the village will wake up and walk out. They move stiff and mindlessly out of the village and into the valley. They just keep going and aren’t ever seen again.


And that’s all I got. Tell me what you think.

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That sounds really awesome! A ton of great intrigue and mystery in the premise! I’ll gladly read more your stuff when you release it!

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Thanks!

I’m super glad you like it.

Though at this point I should say that the entire series is Transformers based. Granted there’s a lot of original stuff like this planet and an entire alien race I created, but at its core this is going to be a Transformers series.

If you’re still interested, I posted the first chapter of the first story in the series and I’d be happy to link it here.

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Of course! That’d be really cool!

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Awesome. Be sure to tell me what you think.

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