Upon drops of ocean adrift,
On astranged piece of bark
Old World remnants, brown as Autumn
Floats the dark mist, offending,
Gleaming with triumph and greed
Fueled by war of violent desires
And Blown by need to diminish globe.
And in the distance, it stumbles upon,
A mamoth of land, virgin at heart-
a Green Beast:
Untouched.
And the mist descends, Riding Horsemen of four,
and with the kiss of death,
consumes,
In passion of fire and ash,
Oh ill fated pheonix, starless-
The Green Beast falling, one with the mist,
beast and Mist, Mist and beast
As rust to leaf, and perish-
Both conquest of the dark,
The Beast, defiled dust to match mist,
Reaped,
And the mist moving on,
To find, and consume...
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