Written on Monday, November 25th, 2024.
On the pain of war, it is as though my world is destroyed.
May God's hand, guide me through this perished fall,
counting seconds as days grow old.
Some say, "None, cannot, bring any victory throughout this perished hall.
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"SHOUT!" Thy say so that swore to return.
Shout out to me for the thou savior grant a wish,
where my native tongue blinds thy meaning
beyond words can compare.
Comest thou shout 'till lungs are full.
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I 'ever thought well of my past
nor have I felt well in the midst of it.
Pain and gore are one matching column
Seen for I've foreseen thou Spirit of war
My world is the beginning of the end.
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When standing on the frontline,
more voices are shouted.
We call to thy enemy our brothers, sisters,
and family where one must not say it so.
Why fight when we have corruption that also
blinds us from thy friendship.
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I call unto leaders of the world, to stop
this anguish of poverty and pain.
Chain yourselves to your duties where real matters are needed.