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