History is a cycle of endless war.
On innocents' arms, plenty of scars.
Death is waiting at every corner,
always waiting for a fearless soldier.
When they die, their children will cry;
then they'll swear revenge,
for their beloved,
whom they'll avenge.
This pattern is tiring.
And very frustrating,
but always remember,
it's never amusing.
On our hearts, forever we wear,
battle scars we'll always bear.
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Fancy Words
Поэзия» I try to be friends with both my A N G E L S and M O N S T E R S « Oh, all these words swimming in my head. *Previously titled "The Poems In My Head".
