the people say
they came to rest
upon the shore, one day
from homes on best,
of lands they came from faraway.
a group of men,
tall, each like a mercenary,
the final icing of defeat
none too strong to massacre,
the living and the dead.
Did you ever hear
the back lanes
with every tensing push,
the lone gray
And then, heaven opened up like wildfier
on a cool summers night,
not taking any chances with the luck.
The sky, all glowing of amber shades
the eyes of men,
glazed in porcelain hues of white
Hearts, made of flesh and feeling,
all turned to dust,
with divine intervention,
Created from the flotsam and jetsam,
all great things come to pass,
from the smallest grain of sand,
to the largest fire in the sky.