Mark VI and the Construct

What is a man that is not born
      but cast within a fiery forge?
By whit and whim and wind he plies
      his cause and cause of him he eyes

Man-made machine, man made machine
      What do you know of love and life
vague and pressing, soul unseen
      flung into their forever night

I've burned and froze and turned to dust
      and rose once more to meet that night
Though dim my sight and insight slight
      I think you are the same as us

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