On my hundred, metal legs, I click and I clack over all in my way. Searching, sampling, crawling, and eating all day. I don’t bother anyone, I just stay alone, for I am heading for a destination, yet where it is, completely unknown.
I saved a man along the way, he was bleeding, gasping, and crying; he spoke of another, much more important than him. Some other creature he loved, but I saw not a soul in sight, except for this man, who laid struggling and dying.
That’s where I got these legs, clacking and crawling, I went up his skin. Into his body, I welcomed myself, around his very bones, his spine, I wrapped my grasping limbs.
Now we both travel, we know not where. He becomes more silent, and I continue eating. But we depend on each other, our minds and our weak bodies we harmoniously share. Though sometimes desolate, in our unknown yearnings, for somewhere we know not where, at least we have each other, and the going has been fair.