Come or go, I do not mind, A bonus is a lucky find. Sickle not yet stained with blood, Love cannot thrive in the mud. That marvellous pen sky, Inks the ether 'fore my eye. Joy combusts in living fumes, Spirits die in stagnant rooms. Rapture though the sickle fell, Some secrets you cannot tell.
Holy footsteps weaving peace, Life thrives on a silver fleece.
Fauna fire burning free, Man should imitate a bee. Value laden speeches made, Walls of words cannot be saved. Blood red children make a wreath, Red hat action may leave grief. Metal plane makes death again, Satellite pinpoints the blame. Karmic worm hates all the more, Revenge is a diseased whore.