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?
The Window// (1) Behind the window, when clouds descend down over houses planted into mud, and seeds wake up, clock-hands go back to zero. Cottony fogs veil visions, so we might look inside, then I see a dewy dove carrying
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