To my perfect world that don't exist.
Winter frost and smoke of mist.
Lions and prey cuddle with bliss.
War and sorrow, we never miss.
My perfect world cannot be this.
On earth, there's pain and people fighting with fist.
But in my perfect world, there is a heaven, full with bliss.
My heavenly father, comforts me with this.
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Author:
The BlackShakespeare (
Offline) - Published: October 29th, 2021 22:13
- Category: Short story
- Views: 7
Offline)
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