Even from the tiniest crack of concrete something grows,
Even from the smallest form of deceit God above knows,
Have our children of sorrows forgotten what we were created to do ?
For they have spent their precious moments on watching clowns and demons doing what they do,
Can we scream and shout at them to listen … NO!
Stop your nonsense, you’re meant far more to grow,
No one listens, dark days and dark nights,
No more small kisses to lighten up their bright eyes.
Touches of violet and blue all over their bodies,
Bruises from their own worries, habit and sorrys,
Darkened by the lights, glitched mirrors and all,
for hell is now in the night of the great fall…
A warning sign, I seam to hear alone,
of something great and destructive coming for the throne,
and so let the air horns amplify, and hear the drum sounds roll,
we.are.all .now .on .our. own….