Oil Crusades
I see my death without any fear.
The Earth had given birth to human beings
And they have given birth to you, my dear.
I feel the pain, created by the crouds,
The holy killers ride machines of murder.
They burn and split forgiving ancient grounds
And always argue over their borders.
The poor humans of the two dimentions,
They want to fly, but metal wings are cruel.
They want to live, discovering new engines,
But all these engines drink the black-gold fuel.
The nights and days are changing to be wasted,
The new crusaders shoot and kill each other.
I know, my dear, oil is very tasty,
But I don't want to lose you in its fire...
6.02.2006
Свидетельство о публикации №106052500435
Евгений Ванюков 26.05.2006 12:10 Заявить о нарушении
Дмитрий Гаршин 29.05.2006 20:42 Заявить о нарушении