Feed me fire, and I shall ravish this land,
Leave the wretched soil desolate.
Till no brick stands atop the other,
ground no more paved, structure none intact,
That of the hand of man lies in utter ruin,
once forced into geometry, now scathed, torn part.
Let the frost eat away which still lies within,
until the world can breathe free.
A new beginning for the weary wasteland.
Once exhausted shall become invigorated.
´