They are arriving from the other side,
Turning their faces toward ground,
Touching the ashes by their feet
To feel the pain rising from it.
They are coming through oblivion,
Strangers who beheld an eon.
They are flying over lands,
Observing violence, sins and death.
They are unsheathing their swords of fire.
Here are four messengers of God,
Flying high where reigns the wind
To rain down the due verdict.
Dec 1997