The eyes that have seen paradise,
the twin brother of hell.
It’s not another entity,
just another sight,
dark ere, now light.
Past, future and present fight,
the inevitably altered order
for time ahead so bright
in natural borders.
Born in the gutters,
rose to the plains,
looked out to the horizon
holding bread without butter
in worries and pain.
Is thy fate sealed or abandoned?
Even when down to the ash
like Phoenix, the fire bird
so must thou resurrect.
Attila the Hun fell in Chalons.
History went with many a batallion.
Ascension stalking descendance…
This battle is one which cannot be lost.
Nevertheless or nonethemore,
ghetto soldiers claim victory over defeat.