The Orange Globe
Deep inside the orange globe,
Deep down within,
He shook the rubble from the ground,
The glow of amber sin.
A hand swirling in its grasp,
A world of roaring pain,
Tossing, turning, tumbling round,
A place without a name.
An orange ruble now turns,
Into a scarlet mist,
A soaring fire envelops all,
Inside this blood abyss.
A smile appears upon his face,
The turmoil, igniting peace,
Upon his wicked lips,
This hell he will not cease.
Until...a crack appears outside,
The globe, its surface broken.
The mist escapes, its red divides
A hand surrounding nothing.
