Daytime: a closed-up little house

A crowd

Crisis opens all hearts in fear

 

Grey blue sky from last century

Flowing Japanese children’s songs

One giant hill, shining black as coal

Emerges there, moving in on the little house

 

A giant hill of blood, flowing, dark as coal

It flows toward the roof of the house,  drops like a fence

Dead-asleep people startled awake by a watery prison

 

The blast of screams, like fear like revelry

Flustered people open the piled packages

Snatching up the things beyond value to them

Wealth, family, love, faith

 

Your package is a memory

Containing the edge of madness, the harmony of home, and

A peaceful wound after the white cloth comes off

 

It seems there is still some green under the warm sunshine

But the gluey giant, black as coal

Overbrims age

 

One dumb child opens his exaggerated mouth for a silent scream

The birds fly suddenly

 

Dark blood flows up over your eyes

The world lights-out with one flash of the screen