wonder
i wonder when they thought it would be a good thing to go to another place and kill and pilage for land.-War-
i wonder if somone would have broken the first lightbulb, would they have built another one? -war-
wither away and cry fly away to die, everything disposed of. Nothing else will try. inevitability will soon surcome to the bright light of man and extinction will revoke the inventions and innovations we've tried so hard to develope. why try.
I'd love to tell you of the secret clouds of fire and ice, the lands of fairys and the lands of nice. I'd love to mention of all the enchanted gardens and heavenly beings, I'd also love to tell you the feelings. Upon a cloud, shrowd in secracy yet told aloud to the crowd, there is a war, the kind that happends within the heads of beings not within the best of intentions. they go about from cloud to cloud with eager faces of anger and hate, wondering over the world trying to escape, every cloud they capture a feeling is released and every feeling is another golden fleece. the souls are sold for lust of gold.because the ruler will not let them live in peace but enslave them in emortle hell and only if they overun the very cloud they came from they will live and never die. this is why the clouds do cry, every cloud thats overun another drop is killed and free.
i wonder if somone would have broken the first lightbulb, would they have built another one? -war-
wither away and cry fly away to die, everything disposed of. Nothing else will try. inevitability will soon surcome to the bright light of man and extinction will revoke the inventions and innovations we've tried so hard to develope. why try.
I'd love to tell you of the secret clouds of fire and ice, the lands of fairys and the lands of nice. I'd love to mention of all the enchanted gardens and heavenly beings, I'd also love to tell you the feelings. Upon a cloud, shrowd in secracy yet told aloud to the crowd, there is a war, the kind that happends within the heads of beings not within the best of intentions. they go about from cloud to cloud with eager faces of anger and hate, wondering over the world trying to escape, every cloud they capture a feeling is released and every feeling is another golden fleece. the souls are sold for lust of gold.because the ruler will not let them live in peace but enslave them in emortle hell and only if they overun the very cloud they came from they will live and never die. this is why the clouds do cry, every cloud thats overun another drop is killed and free.