Sunday, August 18, 2013

Dreadnought,

Steel and power built this,
The high retreat from industry,
It's the modern world, invented,
In particle warps and grids,

The toy box for warring cousins,
The house of a rising gun,
Coalesced  in the converters,
and works of Sunderland,

We'll roll through the heather,
Down to the thundering sea,
And carry your ships to earth,
Breaking the ocean with grey,

And blood-tinged metal,
The flag of a rogue nation,
Declared in the high hills,
Flies in the wind from the moon.

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