Over head, they loom with impending news
To either quell the fires that ravage
Or to restrain life that grew too savage.
In most respects, we must all pay our dues
To revitalize the cycle a new.
Through the generous gifts of the blue salvaged
From the land of which we bestow our homage,
Or to sacrifice our hearts in cold blue.
They are our harbingers of life and death.
For ever in the sky as white or black
Masses of heavens pure all mighty breath.
Their sentiments purge the scourge of which lack
The capacity to understand theft
Of what was built on the might clouds back.