The days may be long, But the nights are grim
poetic scribble by Bob Axell 2009
We trap them ourselves
The potentials of evil
Some of them we set free
Just to see how they act
We created it ourselves
The monumental of decieval
It's there to understand
And lend a helping hand
When the times are too great
To be appriciated without power
When a common lack of fate
Slows down the coming hour
So we rapture our own walls
Just to let the dust once settle
And once again be one with nature
Only now with electric kettles