It was a beautiful, sunny day,
Like a blooming photo,
Like the blue cornflowers and red tulips in the green meadow on the mountain,
And everyone was happy,
Or at least everyone outside,
As they served as a mask, an image,
For the other worlds, just like ours, equally fake,
Like polished silver spheres in an endless void,
Like specks of dust in a church at night,
Egoistical and insignificant...

And the happy people, the ones outside,
That had no hope for it was never needed,
They looked at the sky and screamed,
They challenged him by many names,
To come out and [unintelligible]...

And so he did, right then,
On this day,
The blue cornflowers and red tulips in the green meadow on the mountain day,
His giant hand tore the sky,
The soft sunny sky,
And the trembling people, the ones outside,
That had not ever learned what hope was,
They looked at the sky and screamed,
They were begging him for help, by many names,
But to him those were no longer voices,
Those were not even sounds,
But small, pleasing vibrations touching his palm,
And for the last 17 milliseconds of their life,
Everything went dark,
Except his giant palm,
And his wrathful, [unintelligible] face...

The only traces of everything left,
Were the carcasses,
Scattered next to the black cornflowers and black tulips in the dark meadow on the mountain,
They were left to rot and get their souls eaten slowly,
Just like he intended,
And after a few moments his hand touched the rotten, moldy, maggot-filled corpses,
And even they became dust,
Or a gross, mushy substance,
And as he saw the skull in the ridge of his fingerprint,
His heart flooded with guilt,
And even more, fear,
As he knew and was right,

The bigger than him crushed his body,
The bigger observed his exploded little organs,
And the bigger felt the little electrons touch his hand,
The bigger was pleased, and washed the bigger's hand,
With the millions of other little electrons and hims,
The bigger didn't let him ruin the bigger's ultimate goal,
Of glass marbles and only glass marbles,
Of no hims and no electrons,
And the bigger continued on with his hunting,
Near the dead cornflowers and dead tulips in the deserted wasteland in the silent void.