I went to the window, and I watched, as the world went by. I saw the little children crawling; with sad and teary eyes. The sky above them was falling, as the hounds of death came calling. I went to the window, and I watched, as I cried. The world around us was dying, without a cloud in the sky. The life we once knew; now but a lie. I went to the window, and as I watched I was called. God came with such vengeance bringing justice to us all. Vainly calling upon his name as they began to fall. As I watched from my window and worshiped in his name I saw them dying from the heat of the flame Or was it just a dream, and I am merely insane?
A way to the outer world from inside Is the window – an agent certified; Gloomy, depressed, woeful world Is made happy with a small riptide Which comes to the sight of bide Who live in and try to bestride
Neither below nor above , Natural nature seeks scope , To survive on Instinct’s rope . The normal in periodic table , Weaves the Necessity’s fable , Here ‘yes’, there ‘no’, runs the tale . Futile prove all theories of
Through the window pane I see, A drenched delphinium, A mortal enjoying intoxicating debauchery, An ensign in tatters, A hot blood growing cold in the storming jitters, And me, in the rear view-still “sedentary”. Hushed!!! For the carousel taking away
The wasp makes its inscrutable plans multitasking cleaning its wings with its hind feet what must it think of the dirt stains ghosts of rainwater covering the outer window like hammer marks all its parts, segmented, moving independent while the