Mini-Mower - an act of creation in 6 Days
The sacred POP accrues - Thy shalt Lay together to perceive thy form
Thy Form is well, let the Art-of-Arcs (welding) craftsmen begin their trade
Its feet shall run with the wind, for the scooter-drives are on our side.
Thy revolving Drum evolves with power, the better to smite thee.
Friction shall drive it, That slippage be allowed and stalls never met.
Motors of Power, Reductions of Rubber, I bid thee -Revolve and Rotate !
Fearsome are its Teeth, carefully crafted to knock hell out of thee..
Rotating, Hi Carbon Tool Steel will be the instrument of thy doom
The creator pauses to survey his Handiwork. Yea, it is good..
Let not they teeth foul thy drive, for that would be most distressing
Scales tell the Weight truth, and the timing of thy Motors shall be done
and in a flash of light, let thy naked steel be clothed in war-paint
and all is done, The Beast is complete, tread lightly, lest it awaken angry.
and decide to test its mettle on your tender flesh or thy metal warrior
The Jaws of Destruction approach, Your fighting Knight's life grows cold
and departs this mortal coil at the hands of your nemesis, its last view from the air, having been callously tossed there by the Vortex of Steel.
--< The End >--
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