its a new dawn of a new day
i see a sicklebill on its way
the little bird, noah, has come to my
window
but she's not humming, much like a crow
wishing to rip open the glass pane
i have an unsure sense that it is the dame
who's home built of twigs and hay
was here untill yesterday
thoughts in me shift quickly
with a strong thud of the daily
hitting the floor as intended
i fear again it would be candid
while sipping my third cup of tea
hurting, with an inch of glimmer i see
thousands wounded, hundreds dead
not far from paths i usually tread
it has happened today, it will happen again
that bird will strike against my window pane
but i know nothing else to say
the war just gets older; and gray
today will be no different from
the last year, and the years gone
but in hope of a better tomorrow
i long and long to forget my sorrow
another week has taken its couse
leaving little and older breeds in remorse
surely the mechanical predator lived upto its name
since dawns thereafter were never the same
faith in anti-god brimmed manifold
what fucking atrocious lies was i told
he is the saviour holding us in his mit
is this a different side to his wit?
GOD IS DEAD!