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Maurice Kimball

Never had been said, never had been told

A story so unbelievable it's something to behold.


Tangled in a riddle of which came first, light or the dark

created in a world where time cycles never had a start.


Two opposites locked in an endless chase for eternity.

Never to suffer the daunting fate of lovers' tragic destiny. 


Or would they?


A world upon which we misunderstood wrought on a breathless beating heart.

That function relies on nothing more than one, thirteenth machine part. 


Gears grind against the rustic skeleton of ore and stone 

chattering your teeth before cracking your ivory bone.


Cogs tenon on the end of a joist received into a notch of bearing timber and flame. 

Sprockets burn on the periphery chain.


Breathes to razor-bleeding tunes scratching the ear

filled with grainy sand that you can not bear to hear.


The time is up.


The call for the beating heart to turn its massive machine 

to the ratchet sound that calls for screams. 


Screams that call the spare part of number, Thirteen.

- Maurice

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