Ball game brought together the killing nations. In our hearts the seeds of a common root. Broken by the little black wrinkles tiding on the electric wastes of humanly bred brain-surfaces. Erroneous steps escalating in DNA sweeping through darkness powered thoughts of the confused mind conglomerate. Always close to agressivity looking for peace rigidly breaking bones while doing so. A forest of wildly fighting plants where light can hardly enter to give the direction to grow. Chaoticly overthrowing the sight. Too much of thoughts, sometimes easily creating hurricanes of souls. Youngly living ... no match for the tornado. Life. Black as death white as can be. Who will look at this? Who will take the sword of decision?

Why are you here?