Metallic Ascendancy

In twisted metal, a visage gleams, A fusion of flesh and machine's dreams. The armor wraps, a serpentine form, Guarding the soul, in metallic storm. Eyes, like windows to the soul, Reflect the turmoil, the heart's dark role. The metal's sheen, a mirror's gaze, Reveals the depths, in a mechanized daze. In this fusion, a new form's born, A being of metal, with a heart that's torn. Between the flesh and the steel's cold might, A struggle rages, through the dark of night. Yet, in this fusion, a beauty lies, A testament to the human spirit's sighs. For in the metal, a story's told, Of resilience, of a soul that's made of gold.