Through cosmic gears and nebulous night,
A Cheshire grins, a mechanical light.
With wings of brass and eyes of gold,
A steampunk dream, centuries old.
Above the spires, a moon so vast,
Reflects the secrets of a broken past.
The city sleeps, a clockwork hum,
As shadows dance, and madness come.
Each cog a thought, each whir a plea,
For freedom found, or what’s to be.
A wicked smile, a promise kept,
In the realm where curious minds have wept.
The Crazymad Writer Writes Again 