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Like pearls falling irrevocably from a broken string. Etched against the horizon, while trumpets are blaring, the once-familiar contour of the great city of abomination breaks. This, while so many dirty orphans peer fearfully around the ruins. In the shameless hope that someone will come and feed them something edible.

Oh, flood upon flood in storm-water mud rivers. There, once precious matter now floats as only discarded goods. Oh, blood upon blood where the war rages on. In soot upon soot where the consuming flames rush on. In the flood of tears where a mother must bid farewell to her son beside a grave.

Thus another young troop dies heartbreakingly. Against a horizon in a blood-red glow. The nations now fight furiously, armed to the teeth. Even the peace dove has stopped cooing in terror. But no one stands saddened, moved by this.

Oh, the kings and the great, once so powerful, stately and so haughtily stalwart. These stand as rulers who continue to wage senseless war. Through all this, the farmers must continue to farm under state supervision. Someone must, after all,
continue to feed the soldiers.

Listen therefore to the suicidal laughter of Babylon the great whore. This, while she greedily glances for the last time at other countries’ minerals and treasures. And see, oh man, the world pearls that fall irretrievably from a once broken royal necklace.