My fingers ache from
The strain – word follows word
While quietly sits the sword –
In its scabbard, sleeping
Before its joyous song,
Sowing
‘righteousness’
‘peace’
‘justice’
Words on a scrap of paper
Cant change actions –
Maybe I can
My fingers ache from The strain – word follows word While quietly sits the sword – In its scabbard, sleeping Before its joyous song, Sowing ‘righteousness’ ‘peace’ ‘justice’ Words on a scrap of paper Cant change actions – Maybe I can |
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March 10, 2008
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