Poetic-Verses
THE PROMISE OF THE BOMB
Go, storm and guns and burns
On alters strong
To fall aloft a lot
Of roughest rum
Dull sons are not oft thought
To die by gun
On alters strong
To fall aloft a lot
Of roughest rum
Dull sons are not oft thought
To die by gun
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THE PROMISE OF THE BOMB
THE PROMISE OF THE BOMB
