I feel borrowed from water, earth, air and fire.
my roots spread in the way of the plow. ruin follow stem, corolla and perfume.
whirlwind of murderous steel will come upon.
skeletons of tomorrow will carry my pale colours on their shoulders, as crows carry on their plumage the last grains of day into the night.
there's a marble garden waiting, stained with the faeces of time.
there's no time for tears. only the rain is so kind as to refresh the countenance of solitary graves.

(Luis R Santos)