In skyline are streaming
soldier bees who'er buzzing,
In the middle of an isolated moon
Where butterflies hide in cocoon.
They're making an airline buzz;
Blowing an air-stream of fuzz.
Passing above skyscrapers and trees,
These day-breaker marching-flying bees.
The stripes of red, blue, white and glow
Twinkling to and fro.
From northern to southern
Vice versa reaching anew the cavern.
In the hive they would march
To dismiss the mantis' starch
Where few honeycombs gone dry
From plague of too much rye.
They buzz, thus bravely fighting,
Shooting stings to from foes' sucking;
Seeking in every hive's corner;
Saving the rest further.
Though bees force's at number
Yet mantis' at hold on babies slumber,
That they can't get through enough
Nor even outgrew thereof.
The conflict of the both
Stole hearts and loath,
And cries and wails are airing
An ode to a colony's bursting.
Yet knew - I- new morn awaits
The hive to gain big weights,
To stand at harmony and peace
To which conflict's at cease.