A Silent Thunder

The horses run  
a silent thunder
crimson scars
the sky their under
solar heats
the blood , boiling over
rotten wood
it forms some cover
as I watch , the sky
to wonder
is it nigh
the calling
of all numbers .

Satellite , bright
ultra violent light  
big seas
are getting deeper
honey bees
becoming sleepier
all the trees
are now much thinner
all the rain
is like paint stripper
life the train
driven by a killer
who's insane
and a public figure
a household name
maybe
Jack The Ripper
out of hell's chains
finger on
the trigger
to blow out
your brains
into the bigger
picture .

The horses run  
a silent thunder
crimson scars
the sky their under
I wonder why
they run for cover
the end is nigh
listen for
your number .