15 March 2009


above the earth below the skies
between the fire in the cries
within the blood our statue lies

a gift of fire in the glass
the blood the dinner of the class
dark night the theatre of the lass

our blood the water into wine
tonight the moon above the sign
the wind between the sharpest vine

at night will turn to winter steel
when wind can turn the water wheel
our teeth are sharpened for the meal

the wind does make the fire flash
the teeth in wheels begin to clash
the fire turns the song to ash

Ad stratum

thousands are standing in the way of the second coming of a war with oppressors, the plight would be unbearable once more. The men in black interrogate sheriffs for doing their work in a land of treason and traitors, for a few from each side, whom would like not be involved with terror. In a war, one in which we carry packs across mountains; we have funded the foreign nation occupied to catch the marauders born of that land, in efforts to maintain an equal ally in the region. I cannot tell if, to catch a faceless axis, we have funded them or bought them. A snake in the kitchen sent to the grass of a yard we cannot see, he dotes as long as the world thinks his capture is actual. The filters of the burning trees have now a lobby in the 'spend all, stand tall' exploiters of logical accomplishments. An emerald explosion, two times the size of a young man, awaits the new and old living of the dead. Hand in hand, the voices of the voiced spend to send an extremist through to the land of the stars, in case he would scorn his second homeland, and threw his walks and got three years. Across the nation, they are keeping more serials, more than ever, in a prison they call home. The chief of a once great land, hired criminals to voice with him and has stricken anyone who opposed him, even after their appointment by him, including the communications chief, leaving only enough room for a conspiracy to begin in the land of the free and the home of the brave. The commerce ratings are up and the bank did not want to exploit its customers through Marxist terror. A miscount in the land of the Viking farmers second colony cannot decide to pick a new truth over an old tyrant as all is pending.