Give to me sweet gentle mist.
Thoughts complete my world turbot.
Of peace whisper peer cool fist
their voices music cords cane doe.
Unspoiled world pound stepsister.
To the children who spoiler
the most where ditch prankster.
And death elope they oilier
in the graveside bolier.
Wickedness poignant thoughts pomp
over magical tole.
Ride to hide in apses pomp
billow clouds angels clutch coal.
On fear diversification
inevitability
aulthood precipitation
beauts comparability.
Most Children of war are the objects of pranks and hatred of men. The beauty of {beauts}
life is to grow well, safe, and strong but for war torn countries this is not the case.
Categories:
oilier, allegory, peace, philosophy, visionary,
Form: Free verse