Echoes in Pink: Industrial Dreams of Berlin
In Berlin's heart, where history blends,
Lies a monument, where past and future mend.
The Umlauftank, a colossal sight,
In pink it stands, a beacon bright.
Leo's vision, bold and grand,
A ship on land, a marvel planned.
Front 242, in industrial tone,
Sings of mornings, quite unknown.
The sun went down, the ground did grind,
A blinding light, a world confined.
Cyclones swept, landscapes flattened,
Smokes twirled, gigantic patterns.
In ruins burning, eyes did roam,
In dreams they stayed, far from home.
Numbed and mesmerized, the feeling stayed,
As morning broke in unusual ways.
More than words could ever tell,
A new dawn rose, from urban shell.
The Umlauftank, in pink it stands,
Pipes exposed, like veins of hands.
A circuit grand, of water's might,
In Leo's design, a future bright.
A research hub, for waves and flow,
A testament to what we know.
Yet in this digital age, we find,
A utopia, dystopia combined.
Computer screens, simulations clear,
Replaced the tanks we once held dear.
In Berlin's streets, the past remains,
A monument to human gains.
As music echoes, industrial, stark,
A rhythm born from the dark.
The way the morning broke, they sing,
A symbol of what time can bring.
In Berlin and in London’s sprawl,
The Umlauftank stands tall.
A legacy of steel and dreams,
In every line, a story teems.
Of architects who dared to see,
A future where we could be free.
In pink and pipe, a bold design,
A journey through both space and time.
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