The Cold War 04.11.2006 11:33
In darkful middle where shining meadow
Lies surround as palisade the blackest widow
On thread of web waves on the wind
From side to side. It measures time;
The balance has no weight.
And from the line of horizon where sky
So close to ground it comes the host
Of straight rain rays. The squall of cries.
And shadow of the crowding clouds so gloom
Its dark embrace of sudden night so close
And growling shouts of thunder blooms
With lights of sored lightning-thoughts.
Such battles made the world & made it tired
The Juggernaut of random versus mind.