The Fight

The night in a spring along the park,
A fool watches the river pass by.
Birds, ducks and fishes of passing time
And yet the time was never gone.
So the man had to invent a clock
And a compass to move the earth.
Then he weaved the branches of an oak tree,
He built ships that were fast and heavy.
Adorned by the canons of blazing fire,
Ravaging screams and an inferior laugh.
The sea turned red as sails left the wind.
Ruins of his lost empire to pluck,
A vulture sits recklessly on his neck.
The tormenting silence of the dead men
Will rule through the mist now and then.