Immortal beings of malice and hate.
The clank, clank of these cyborgs of steel.
There they menacingly stand tall and straight.
Soft creaking and turning of gears and wheels.

Stalking through the dark, damp alley at night
Seeking endlessly for petrified prey,
Whose only options: to flee or to fight.
The rising of machines has come to stay.

Run. Run away now; though you stand no chance
Nobody can hide forever from these
No dawn awaits those who fight the enhanced
Tonight might be the last you feel a breeze