Smoke blocked out the sun, and the moon rose red,
the wood and the heavens all set ablaze.
The firestorm raged o'er the bless'd and the dead.
Long drought and sawdust, the demons were fed,
refuge was sought in the maelstrom fire maze.
Smoke blocked out the sun and the moon rose red.
Through cinder and ash, the silence of dread,
no town to withstand this power to raze.
The firestorm raged o'er the bless'd and the dead.
In rivers we boiled as we bobbed our heads,
a fate to be feared by any who pray.
Smoke blocked the sun and the moon rose red.
From Green Bay reborn, the half-drowned were led,
city of ash in the north burned for days.
The firestorm raged o'er the bless'd and the dead.
Faith ignited, and by the lucky shed,
legend now hides them 'neath smoldering haze.
Smoke blocked out the sun and the moon rose red.
The firestorm raged o'er the bless'd and the dead.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment