Tomorrow, a thought not in mind of most intimatesNot in vain, not in every censure, not a scarf on a treeTomorrow, is a clock, nothing more,A cup of tea or something smaller, maybeIt’s something we...

High buildings fall, black oceans rise, and coins sink in height Where weapons smash in every grace, with every black and white The east drops, the west too, children die and so do oldWith every...