Gen’rals gathered in their masses,
Just like witches at black masses
Evil minds that plot destruction,
Sorcerer of death’s construction
In the fields the bodies burning,
As the war machine keeps turning
Death and hatred to mankind,
Poisoning their brainwashed minds
The Puddle Mirror
I want to stay up late, drinking coffee while the moon stands high. Talking with friends or, strangers, why not both? Discussing philosophy, the stars, literature and art. Hearing and sharing thoughts of of our own. Not talking points framed by others or references to...
