A plucked splinter is like a piece of calm
for it takes a steady hand, like a kite
guided through the blue can then embalm
the sky with moments dancing like starlight.
Debris falls through the sky, tornado thrush
upon the Earth's shores with violence. Kreuger
burns, the meteors will scar the lush of kush
a sweet relief to bear the End. Luger
to the temple, slug within metal jolt
to wake the dead, impart within the drill
to well the soul within, watch the rags molt-
watch new bodies go skipping to the mill
with smiles wide and arms a-swinging silly-
until death, they're blessed to watch Free Willy.