In the deep mystery of a sunset, I see that one step between light and darkness, It fades so slowly, under whose orders? All roots stirred by whistling birds mocking the absurdity of man. Illusions delusions taken into that fire burning all hopes and aspirations and vainglories, everything fades to noting. The ghosts of war, ‘Tommy Tinfoil’ tin soldiers march to, ‘The Soldiers of the Queen’, where a child’s hand chooses who will live and who will die. The sun sinks slowly on the lies of life and I am amazed by belief.
