A Soaring Roaring Thunderous CRY, Beckons IN Orange Stained Clouds AND Dark Golden Skies, These Cities OF Cinder NOW Burning HOT Embers That Fizzle AS Bright AS THE SUN, A NEW Days Light IS NOT Nearly AS Bright FOR THE Fires OF Hell Hath WON. A Festering, Beaten, Bubbling Broke Earth IS Spinning IN THE Wrong Direction, FOR A Kiss Sorely Missed BY These Creatures OF Bliss HAS Created This Atomic Affection.
g.j.u