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Winds of the Warriors

Warriors of the lower empyrean
In heated battles of the unseen
 
Where the winds swirl round and around
Up and over and homeward bound
 
Where the breath of the mighty aerial Gods
Feed the uprisings of the angry mobs
 
Where all heated warriors own the skies
From the execution of their hot blooded eyes
 
Where the cold is a downhearted whimper
A child lost in a smoldering ember
 
Cast out into deep space and totally forgotten
An iron fortress floating in the fields of cotton
 
Winds of the warriors, the breath of winners
Swords of the behemoth, the hands of sinners
Torches of the victors, landings on the earth
Scorching the fields, dancing in mirth
The winds of the joy of the heated warriors.

It sure is hot today.

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