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What?

Rating: 5.0

What a war it is when the earth looks at “what”
The trumpet is playing like the ashes remaining from the old wars
On the ruined magnificent chateaux
And it remains from the “it is war”
Like ever
Her ringlets rise from the petrol tubes from the rivers ruined by the colors of war
And fixes to a gaze from behind which gazes in to the labyrinth of tubes
It remains from the “ it is war” and goes on towards falling
A big bomb stands above and doubts to fall
It is a doubting bomb, it slips from her ringlets falls between the petrol tubes

The world’s violence rests coldly on her shoulders
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