There is an artist’s gallery on King Street
that exhibits many strange things.
Dark and moody the photographer felt
as he snapped the old Steampunk odd bling.
What manner of science was it meant to employ?
To what realm would it send its maker?
And as its fey blue light began to beat slowly,
fear became the observer’s neighbour.
It is the truth. The very next day it was gone….
Witnessed this day, 26th December in the year of our lord 2012, within the bounds of the asylum in which the photographer lives.