quarta-feira, 29 de maio de 2013



Temple of Miracles in my last straw
will stain the angel that rides black wild animals
come to earth to tear human glory to the last boot
until the last jump being swallowed by the flames of balls

Over the fence of time and space
the middle of the night becomes daytime
veteran of Paradise feels his failure
fallen angels and humans trapped in their cowardice

Skulls with wings dominate the clouds bankrupt
Master of Shadows in Paradise reap their grain
the pure maidens and feel weak and pale
His seed was germinated in hell and on earth planted in the ground

Good men are locked in a container on pier
pasture of heretics is vast and growing
held the sun's rays and lightning Peace
Angel Gabriel tired and weak perishing lying on the ground.

Arthur Nett

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