Small door's often lead into large rooms,
It is something that is frequently forgotten.
Written word's are more powerful than any fist,
They possess a hidden magic more pure and wonderful.
We all live and share our existence on a planet,
That, thanks to man, is now corrupt and divided.
There seem's to loom more hatred gloom and shadow's,
In this earth that has ungratefully and unthankfully been provided and given.
But somehow, hidden, remain's wishfull hope,
An emotion which I myself, cling to most,
Without it's charm our soul's would be lost,
In a path to nowhere, covered white with frost.
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