The Return of Mr.Gearwright (Not dead after all) By Feelin’ Punky
She’d traced his name in soot and steam,
A shadow lost in half a dream.,
They said he fell in the Year Machine-
Another soul ground in between.
But fate is tricked by ticking hands
And time obeys no mortal plans.
For there he stood, just past the light,
Not dead but altered by the fight.
He voice was brass, low-.tuned and worn,
Only his cape and gloves were torn.
But in his eyes? That same old spark,
Still chasing stars beyond the dark.
“You kept me well”, he softly said,
“With wire I spun and silk I bled.
She laughed-a sound both sweet and sharp,
Like metal strings played across a harp.
He took her hand-rough, real and warm.
No ghost. No dream. No clockwork form.
Not dead. Not lost. Just set aside,
by times loop and shifting tide.
And there they stood as watchers fled
Two time-marked souls once thought long dead
with feathers, gears and tales untold-
Alive again and back in gold.
The Return of Mr.Gearwright (Not dead after all) By Feelin’ Punky
She’d traced his name in soot and steam,
A shadow lost in half a dream.,
They said he fell in the Year Machine-
Another soul ground in between.
But fate is tricked by ticking hands
And time obeys no mortal plans.
For there he stood, just past the light,
Not dead but altered by the fight.
He voice was brass, low-.tuned and worn,
Only his cape and gloves were torn.
But in his eyes? That same old spark,
Still chasing stars beyond the dark.
“You kept me well”, he softly said,
“With wire I spun and silk I bled.
She laughed-a sound both sweet and sharp,
Like metal strings played across a harp.
He took her hand-rough, real and warm.
No ghost. No dream. No clockwork form.
Not dead. Not lost. Just set aside,
by times loop and shifting tide.
And there they stood as watchers fled
Two time-marked souls once thought long dead
with feathers, gears and tales untold-
Alive again and back in gold.
