Ecstasy in Cosmogone

Series Metadata

Creator:
Series Begun:
2017-07-07
Series Updated:
2017-09-16
Notes:

Early evening over London (for it’s always evening there),
Since the Empress sold the city, but the commoners don’t care,
Nor the dandies nor the dockers, or bohemians with flair,
For what boots a little sun when life eternal’s in the air?

Now here's the word at Wolfstack, as the zailors come and go,
There's an engine in the making, that'll give us all a show,
The Fulgent (named Impeller), built by someone in the know,
Of a Riddlerfisher secret, that'll make the _____ glow.

The Innocent they call him, and there’s no end to the stories,
The things he’s made and mended, hopeful engineering glories,
The sphinxstone ship he zailed home, from the tired patient quarries,
Just what he got up to in the Fierce P’s laboratories.

They say he has a penknife, that he’s stolen out of time,
They say he broke from Wisdom, though he never did a crime,
They say his Correspondence is the picture of sublime,
They may even say he’s handsome, underneath the oil grime.

One thing you must remember, should you ever have the treat,
To buttonhole our hero, when he wanders down the street,
You may ask about his spying, or the secrets of concrete,
But don’t ask about this ballad - for he’s awfully discreet.

- traditional Zee shanty

Stats:
Words:
77,696
Works:
6
Complete:
No
Bookmarks:
2

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