Healing

Blasted lands stretching on
to the end of the world.
The graveyard sun-bleached bones
asking the sand for burial.
Killing the dying kondos
But no relief.

I will fold cranes in Sadako's honour
And pray for healing

I think I should rather visit Iron Forge again
Kiss the winter reveller for the mistletoe
Get those cookies to santa.
Let Santa hug me, and whisper in my ear
That he knows what I wish for
And that the future is unwritten