Oil Birds

           It dips once more, it's thirst unquenchable. There is a squeal of rust and steel as the large head rises yet again. It's claws dig deep within the earth. Stretching down into rough layers of sediment. The earth slowly crumbles under the weight of this creature.It continues it's rhythmic journey. Slowly bobbing up and down. Up and down. It will never stop. It cannot. It was made to fuel the greedy desires of the world. It may never completely fulfill it's task. For there never is an end. The barren ground odes not hinder the strong wind from kicking up dust and dry weds into the cool air. The lonely yellowed grasses sway; a demented dance, lost and rooted in time. Though the wind may howl and whine, the groaning bird will not cease to dip into the deep well. A continuous cycle. It's endless fate.