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.



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