What good should our heart extract
from the stars scorched ‘till ash,
What can a man hope to reap
from an abandoned soul left to
rot.
What fire can you expect God
to spark where the mind is not
robust,
What angel do you wish to meet
when you’ve been devilishly
corrupt.
What leaves can feed your lungs
if the trees have been cut off,
What heaven should there be
on an earth as bleak as
ice.
