Citadel
Rocks, sharpened rocksone foot in width
Place from corner to corner,
place side by side
One hundred feet high
soaring turrets in the sky
Great keen thoughts
could never shake its foundation.
All of us were just xenos
imprisoned by circumstance inside.
By the power of our will,
with our heart's desire,
we'll struggle to escape
and to be free.
If not, let our thoughts fly.
Let us leave our flesh body.
Poetry by Winston Latanafrancia Soldevilla
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Written on 2007-10-04 at 15:52
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