Parachute
White ice towers, slow dissolving
Now fall.
Below savage moon
Iron cities soon to rust.
Warned first by the gathering shadows
They fled.
From wide vapor deserts
They turned turned towards the sea.
Pale worn the walking, pass
Through concrete glades.
Torn shadows, slashed silence
Writer/s: KEVIN HOGDAHL, VICTOR THELL, MARIA JANE SMITH, ANTON EWALD
