I wake to loudly grinding gears, Pounding pistons in my ears, Silent whispers in my head; God only knows how I'm not dead. I rise and stand on tired feet, My body burned by steaming heat; I smell the smoke and blazing fire, The danger's near and just as dire. I turn to run as workers yell, It's close behind me, I can tell. I see them at a geared machine; It sparks, I taste its metal keen. I look around the place I'm in, The noise and light begins to spin; And as I rise above the din, I see, I feel, the World Within.