From And To Poem by Moth Harris

From the dark wrathes of the firey stars
That burn at hells end with eternal flame
Giving off heat and colors
Lighting the sky with burning blame

From the golden glow of the milkyway
Who's stars flow in the same way
Spinning in a circles
Making it hard for us to see

From the morning and the night
That sun will forever bring
Waking and resting
Deciding to destroy the affects of spring

From the oceans great tidal waves
Crashing down all over the seas
Taking sailors and swimmers
To the blackest blue of their dreams

From the sandy coasts
Where the crabs burrow and wait
For a wandering foot and hand
Making it hard for us to stand

From the suburbs and the white fence
Where we spend our finest days
Never knowing the outer sin
Made to keep us in

From the cities where violence
and lust runs wild
and the child
that modern life has defiled

From the great lakes
Where our fresh water lay
Showing how easy it is to polute
What needs to stay

To this little pink house
To this little dark room
To this lonely boy
Who is off to bed too soon.