Ashes
When the sun sets in darkness.
For the moon is the son of light.
The moon rises to starkness and burning fire.
The burdens of burning buildings in skies.
The glass shines the moon rays right back to the moonlight
The great bird of scorch.
The torch of the stars.
The start of a new age.
A new age of light.
Of death, to clean.
Fire, to clean.
Screams and screams.
The chirp of life and death.
The feathers.
Burn the heathers.
The start of this
Will burn us to crisp.
Whispers of echoes of histories ruins.
Ruined by current lacks of peace.
Peace will rise with the heat of a thousand suns.
And if the feathers may fall.
We failures will fall.
As the ashes live in bird form.