6 Crusade of gravel

The crisp of an old necropsy being the veil of gleeful ground elevation

Pierre of lacquer flicking hisses

The internal bleed of the blood being the gleam of clay and fools

Broken yet horrified arcane unfold within the death of night

Sea of shore

Sand of drills

Cohesive of ones wringing of soft pleasure skills

With the actual bumble effect on humanity

Pleasing right and withdrawal of one case

Was it the act of constraint or the fascinating sight of heat

Chances for both were none or least expected tangible intimacy

Chewing the fundamental truth of the old blissful saying

The grip of one was the least amount of drinkable wine should be in

How about in the fiction of alliance

Can the sipping of liquor be devastated by impressions

I suppose it was the gape of air

Swift the blow

Yet not hard adequate

The tribulation of truth yet pixels of glaciers

Being lost on rumbling thoughts were the shift of one agony being whim of tales

Remote to tell yet hard to understand

The proponent of one justice was not how people of pure ingornic should be claim

Caves of waves on wondering site

Do u think u could sneak in with the fire of bombshell and weapons

Thunderous it might sound this isn't a validity yet to be analyzed but it was floral out of the drawback

They say to keep the voice in the hush

Lock way the sovereignty crown

And shed some tears

Deterioration on the flipping side

The battle is consensus.

Freedom is slavery.

Ignorance is strength

It destroys the very base of humanity

countries go to war

They fight over invisible borders and materialistic values

they fight over things that should not matter, over an Earth that they don't love as their own.

They fight the rich man's war, to appease his hunger for power and money, and they destroy generations and generations of values and culture.

They sow the seeds of mistrust and insecurity

mockery of the term human rights

Basic needs of faculty and faith were least the charmer should prove but the roaring side from one end to another was just acting of violence being grip on its perks of clear abandon goons holding on to fluid of flaw and ocean of dust

Seeking help was one slip of act needs replacing with the cough of sigh

Youths of youngsters were the new supervisor of the night of death

Yet all is been seen is a pool of blood rather than the sweat of wilderness

Isn't there any needs for the kindness that humanity lacks or it just exists flicks in my fight on the slump of fingers being piled under the mud

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