I looked through the window and saw bellowing fires
Napalm-soaked remains of my city choke the air-victims of new empires
During all conflicts of human history, death is the favored solution
Lead chiefly by ruthless automatons immune to moral dissolution
This vestige of a world is one born from dust and brimstone
I am now merely memories made of ash, agonizing the past with bitter groans
In this state of reflection, I thanked Him, for my sense of hope never retires
That is, until I looked through the window and saw bellowing fires
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 9:16 PM UTC
I looked through the window and saw bellowing fires
Napalm-soaked remains of my city choke the air-victims of new empires
During all conflicts of human history, death is the favored solution
Lead chiefly by ruthless automatons immune to moral dissolution
This vestige of a world is one born from dust and brimstone
I am now merely memories made of ash, agonizing the past with bitter groans
In this state of reflection, I thanked Him, for my sense of hope never retires
That is, until I looked through the window and saw bellowing fires
