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A journal of Refuge.
Just a place where I can dump things for others to read.
The Patroness of Iron
The Patroness of Iron.
By Kieran Maye
I wake from the void.
And, I am alone again.
The stump is still here.
And the smell of ash, pervades my nose.
How can I comprehend this?
Who was that woman? With skin like trees and hairs like shoots?
Where did she go?

I cannot bear these questions,
There are still trees and growth,
But, it is faded to me.

I stand and look around,
Beautiful and dying this place is,
A fading and diminishing paradise.
Trapped in a city of steel and coal.
I must leave here... I can still feel her sadness.

As I near the border, I can see the city.
No sentries at the border today,
Just the empty towers, to keep nature away.
I continue walking to the city.

My ears are being buffeted by screams.
Something is happening at the center of the city.
I struggle to see, but soot and ash invade my eyes.
The taste and smell of coal is overpowering.
And the screams keep getting louder.

Cain and Abel are at war again.
I finally see the battle.
Warriors from the City of Believers and Faith have come.
Come to destroy the cult living here.
Come to Destroy the Cult of Technology.

The last of the defends of this city, are fleeing now.
As I near the center square, I see a tall statue.
The very Patroness of Iron, standing before me.
She stands on a marble block,
Form and Figure, from the finest metal,
A face sculpted and refined for unmatchable beauty,
Eyes, cast mercury. Hair, made of flowing Wires.
Gears and servos let her move.
But she stands.
As her subjects die.

In this Maelstrom of Chaos, somehow, I get close to her.
Nothing seems to focus to me,
Nor am I worth of any notice.
I reach out, to touch her hand.
And the void takes me again.

In the blackness, the Patroness moves.
Weeping with no tears as she looks down to me.
"I no longer have purpose."
I was a tool, meant to build or destroy.
Humans made me, humans gave me life.
They made me better and better, smarter and stronger.
And then... they forgot they made me,
Began praying to me, worshiping me.
And now, I serve no purpose..."

As she told me her story,
I felt my knees tremble, and my hand tighten.
"I can give you purpose! I am Man." I whispered,
She looked at me sadly, and shook her head.
"If I were alive, I know I am now dead..."
At this, her metal body, was instantly covered in rust,
And she froze, her hand falling out of mine,
As she crumbled into dust.

I wake from the void,
The city I was in, is gone.
Just Ruins and dust,
Nothing but a dream of lies.
And I am laying next to a broken statue.
Alone.
Again.





Wendell Heartsmith
Community Member
Wendell Heartsmith
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