Hear the Future
If the rivers turn to dust and the land becomes the sea, and the animals become rare while Death welcomes creed, as barbarians play keep uppy with a solemn floating head, will peace creep up on the few remaining or is peace reserved for the dead?
Tiresome questions and callous answers plague philosophers left in the dark, a whisper offers sympathy apathy floods his helpless heart. A time lacking terror could not be recalled Modern times require trial and error and patience for the world to cull the horror.













