Today, LIKE A THOUSAND MILES OF FIRE:
Walking into nature
A sense of peace and harmony,
Is blossoming.
As trees reach for the Heaven’s skies,
I follow them in the dim moonlight.
But as I look around the barbwire,
The cool hand of the reaper
Chokes any sense of harmony.
By the lamp post it is dying,
Before my own eyes.
We, the reapers, made this killing light,
The light that burns like a thousand miles o fire. MLIAA (just want to see if it will work)