Neil Davey

West

We once stood as beacons of change,
Fuelling your dreams from horizon to shore,
Isolated outposts beneath daunting skies,
Drawing blood from the earth in the name of progress.
They arrived on winds thick with promise and hope,
Blades spinning through the night,
Like armies advancing toward a new dawn,
Weaving their tapestry across the sky.

But when they falter in stillness or storm,
And can no longer meet your ever-growing need,
We endure—steady, unseen—
Forged in fire—a testament to industry.
We are not just remnants of human ambition,
Relics of a bygone era, nor monuments to extraction,
As long as the sky shimmers in ribbons of colour,
Our torches will forever burn bright.