Nights are are quiet and cold to the touch
Gloomy lights in dusty rooms cast spectral doom as whirr and clank.
You took.
You pulled and ripped our love apart at the seams
Now powered by steam.

Dashed and splintered
So I Labour late and long into wintery nights to build from scraps of wood  iron  and steel.
A semblance so that I can once more feel and care.

A shiney gift to pull from
my chest. An offering.
Something that tics and clanks. Cold and dead ouside
Instead of pumping love
My Steampunk heart can only  cry  and scream .The loss of flesh and love for a loveless lifeless thing...my offering
The Steampunk Heart.