The golden gates won’t open
The flames won’t bathe the flesh
A bud in bloom
No more than a child
Beaten and abandoned
No life
No haven
No savior
Nothing but a blooming bud without the sun
And blood pours like rain from the sky
With cadavers splayed about the Earth
For God have mercy, let those beings stay in their slumber
And that pitiful bud, bloomed into a great beautiful calamity