I see you smile, so I hatefully destroy the sun.
Block - block : throwing wings from balconies.
While building a house of sand; until the next cinder burns hot, enough.
The coal of winged desire has been cut...
Until another wave will hit, persist.
Today, one bakes,
the other - 10 years ago burned up.
The picture of this brown muffin,
Smells of your hot cross bun.
The children smile, as they eat,
Just like their children laughed, as their torn wings
Beat in the sky.
Though roaches crawl through streets,
The abbott hungers for a new fresh roll -
Without the buns,
Without white sugar, sprinkled
as a new coal oven, burns.
