Flight For Power

The Pelicans are flying over head. Their songs of sweet sorrow lost to the winds. The Vultures scream murder far below. The voices faint with lungs so black. The fallen victims of a loveless land scattered throughout by a godless man. The bushes burn black with a taint of oil. Fuelled with the greed of a powerful soil. These lands of hatred sit by so idol. Chastised and hypnotized by a box of golden style. When will this misery come to an end. When will the pelicans make there descend. Why do these signals go unreturned. When will the bush and vultures have burned.