A burning sky shows an enkindled earth
to illuminate veiled atrocities.
Like the smoking embers under the hearth.
The gasp for air in their attempt to breathe.
When the planet becomes dark and distant,
the formal order is lost for a time.
Yes - Heaven's lid loses its ginger tint
to try and paralyze the tongues that rhyme.
But there is strength that keeps those tongues loose.
A light which no affliction can diffuse.
The propensity to tell the whole truth
is one which The Poets will never lose.
Keep your pens and disregard the allure
of swords. Words will remain the only cure.
-by Donavue
to illuminate veiled atrocities.
Like the smoking embers under the hearth.
The gasp for air in their attempt to breathe.
When the planet becomes dark and distant,
the formal order is lost for a time.
Yes - Heaven's lid loses its ginger tint
to try and paralyze the tongues that rhyme.
But there is strength that keeps those tongues loose.
A light which no affliction can diffuse.
The propensity to tell the whole truth
is one which The Poets will never lose.
Keep your pens and disregard the allure
of swords. Words will remain the only cure.
-by Donavue
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