Hot snow
On a sunny day, snow falls from the sky. Leaves the landscape covered in virgin white. You’d think it’s Christmas. Snow in the summer! The world must be upside down once more. Take a handful. Quite miraculously, it is hot. Almost leaving your skin burned. This, must be truly a gift from the heavens, mercy to the world. A blessing for the wicked and nothing but a blank sheet. Unwritten and made of dead leaves.
Better not to open your mouth else the snow shall turn to ashes.
No point in building a snowman, for it will be a pile of remains.
Better off making a snow-angel, for it will be an angel of death.
Who brought this invasion of glowing white flakes dancing in the wind, covering the city in a symphony of grace and dread you might ask?
It is the visit of humanity’s best friend.
Who he is? You already know.
He who he changes the future of millions
Greets like thunder
Stops by only unannounced
Living all over history
You know who he is
Giving no judgment. Equaling all, winners and losers. Smiling them in the face while breaking their neck.
You know who he is.
He who holds the secret of life but when shared, your out of time. He whose every appearance falls into the spotlight, getting the world stunned and shocked time after time.
You know who he is
Rabid
Idiotic
Dreary
Entropic
The most famous of the four
Goes by the name of War
Who is followed by three
And three he seeks to see
Reaps the lost calls of anger and jealousy
Corrupts what one holds near and dear
Consumes your love and fear
Sleazy Greedy salmon fishy
Unites only by division
Even in a world of change
He still lives in the same old grange
Seduces whom dreams of glory into oblivion
He who he is by men’s side, since day one. Never leaving, except rivers of tears. The human heart, the same old grange as ever. Nor friend nor foe. Merely an aching reflection of our dark deep.
Waves still moving long after the pebble is thrown. rocks drowning, long after they fell. An ocean in a rain of stones.
Shall thee fight fire with fire to extinguish thy flame, then thee shall rekindle thy flame in time. Fated to burn under it.
For as long as fire shall be the tool of peace, one shall not dare to act surprised when drowning.
The destruction can be hidden, but not undone. What would have been, remains merely a conditional. Making the impossible possible and so it comes that the wind carries, the fresh ashes of the battlefield across the globe.
To tell the people the world is sick, -
-to tell the world the people are sick.
War, as if life would be too little of a blessing and living not enough of a purpose.
On a sunny day, snow falls from the sky. Leaves the landscape covered in virgin white. You’d think it’s Christmas. Snow in the summer! The world must be upside down, ever after.