shawaazu

Sitting on top of a hill I look, I look at the sky blanketed with orange clouds I stop to think about the consequences What will happen when the mushrooms come? The blazing afternoons of many shades of red Will turn into a sea of grey silence The lovely smell of air Will turn into the smell of death and disease I see the zoo in the horizon and think Will they all turn into strange beings Beings that were in our minds and myths A Cerberus here, A Cyclops there Maybe an eternal winter of darkness awaits All for the better or worse? No light to shine on the desolate world A world of catastrophic annihilation and genoci