zelliot

Pin en blanc

Slowly upward the silent crests,
There or is the edge white with the world,
Four archangels, free species walk.
Against the sky ...... roll ......
They walk towards a stage,
Towards a small coffin, where a child must be.
He was so tiny.
...... Nevertheless, you had loved a God.....
A God could not ever make a tour of Child
And close...
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