Zio, Zio, Paradiso

Shining, laughing, running, jumping, dancing. Golden hills caress the sides of a town hidden from time, They are witness to the laughing, running, jumping, dancing. Sin committed, duty abandoned, but blessed with such heaven. Paradiso where he was running, jumping, dancing. The gods of young cocky soldiers smiled on him as he truly lived. A tireless youthful soul relished in the jumping, dancing. Amici, cugini, loved him despite the stigmas that nipped his heels. The heels with war worn boots, that stomped on carnage like dead leaves, That traversed through tragedy, Dante traveling into the seven circles, Death stuck to his boot heels, bones, blood, and souls victim to the crushing, Humanity seeped from his pores, left on some battlefield by a rotting corpse, But amici, cugini loved him in this paradiso, tucked in the Marches. And, with the grace of youth, he saved himself through the dancing.