"And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? "
Forever there, the dry dunes stand
Vultures silently spiraling all over
Rivals coming from the sky,
Stars
Fireworks falling like rain, suns
Burning the ground and the ashes
Long-lost meaning, soft spoken
Words
Letters sprayed all over the desert,
Grains of dust climbing in a storm
Coming from the turning clouds
The falcon
The wedding day has merciless arrived
The darkened glances become the lights
The whispers of forgotten woes
Embrace beasts of forgotten lores
What have been made of the prophets
Whose mouths full of dust and ashes
Scattered glimpses of hope
Turned into blind lunacy?
What have been made of their mystic words?
Has the serpent been turned into blessings,
Or golden kisses have become poison?
From the ruins of the sacred cities, I see clearly
The silent angel of doom cryptically slouches
Towards you, towards me, towards your child.
And a despised creature, spat out of its grave,
Creeps out of nightmares into your cradle,
Bearing your name.