Deep rumbles from far off lands
The fall of light in shards
splinters that dance in shadowed skies
Fueling the tales of bards
Swings of hammers fastly forging
bolts and arrows from on high
Where the god sit quite triumphantly
watching those that live and die
Wars rumble like thunderstorms
flashes that illuminate the gore
Cackles of the mischievious
creating chaos from the lore
Rolling fires that scorch the earth
That started from a single tree
Homes crumble, the land gives way
as entire villages fall and flee
Devastation feeding crooked smiles
from those that thrive on sick
fingertips that pull the strings
and light a double wick
silence falls in thunderous valleys
echoes of those past slain
mighty gods with mighty laws
that marvel at their pain
ants under a burning glass
as they sizzle, buckle, raze
may the gods help us all
came a whispered, dying praise
All that's left are church spires
amid the piles of smoldering hot ash
spare the rod, the child spoils
The same for present, future, past.
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