Anyway, I have a DREAM,
Of justice and peace for paradise,
Of respect and dignity for the populace,
Of unceasing security for the half dead mothers.

Though the wind and the tide,
Have antagonistic flow now.
The breaths are hard and so
Are the hearts of Hunters.

The Juveniles are bruised, their
Mothers wailing and waiting
For a bout of hilarity,
In the paradise turned dungeon.

The trees are dismal, I know.
Shedding the tears, out of love,
For the burning guardians
Of lost paradise.

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The cherubs are hurt and yearn,
For a glimpse of their lost friends.
Anyway, they knock the doors, I know
Of the numb Graveyards.

Anyway, I have a dream.
Of sunrise in the vale,
Of happiness for the shabby faces,
And the healing of agonizing wounds.

Editor's Note

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