Sensorium


Red of desire,Black of the nightOrange of the fire,A world to ignite, This was the color of passion. The odor of ashesRust and charred woodFill the deep gashesWhere cities once stood. This was the smell of hate The hunger of nations,A thirst of greedExcrete indignationsOn which to feed - This was the taste of madness The winds softly speakOf yesterday's worthWhere are the meekTo inherit the Earth? This is the touch of fate.