Philosophy of Zero

War was beginning.
I was counting up the soon-to-be dead.
What happen?
Someone set up us the bomb.
Someone burn down the escalator.
It was as red as the big bang.
Too hot to get near with our dogs.
We get signal.
Yeah, we receive it, but we don’t want it.
We don’t know where it’s from.
It said we’re fucked, and we surrender.
Main screen turn on.
The picture is as gray as a granite grave.
It varies, comes and goes, is colored by jetties.
Sometimes it’s making love
Or tumbling down a hill with flowers whizzing by.
It’s you, a view of your brain, the interior.
Apparently a brain is actually a stone
And the head it’s drupe.
War is just the picking of the fruit.
Keep your shoulders high, lads.
No need to talk amongst yourselves.
How are you gentleman?
We’re bored to tears.
We’ve been playing cards all night.
We can’t remember signing up for this.
Our weapons are few.
Who are we fighting anyway?
All your base are
Belong to us.
You are on the way to destruction.
You have no chance to survive
Make your time.
All we want is great justice.
Thou shall not nick anything between levels.