Nothing to see here. Move along.
Wednesday, February 5, 2020
As we were walking up and down
And to and fro below the ground
(As we were wont to do), we found
A makeshift man in tattered dress.
The riddle that he posed we guessed,
Then watched as from his soulless rest
He stirred. Like lights, his eyes came on.
Our very own automaton:
He fought for us, for he was strong.
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