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On your shoulders, slender waisted maiden, you carried the burdens of this earth: like Atlas of the old, you of Amazonian strength; Yet today you sink, weighed down by the vanishing vestige of shadows aflicker. Shadows that consume all, engulfing nights, harbingers dark of conflagrations rise. Disbelief is our creed. But enough we believe to vote them to power, our leaders we so love. Yet in the hour of decision, we must believe in their indisputable dishonesty. Yes, aliens are around, Area 51 is for real, late night appearances on Larry King live? For the select few, sure, for a select price. Osama did not die. In fact, exist, he never did. Flags felled of the towers twin ? False, them false! How belief, when Iraqs can happen? Whither the weapons of mass delusion? Conspiracy. In bloodlines is our interest but not in the man who gave that blood for us. Alas those to preach that love vested, too are in gossip and scandal invested. Fickle is our love, the mistletoe occupies now the sacred space of the matronly banyan, and the owl upside down, for the dove beloved old
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Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
Now, not that war again!
On your shoulders, slender waisted maiden, you carried the burdens of this earth: like Atlas of the old, you of Amazonian strength; Yet today you sink, weighed down by the vanishing vestige of shadows aflicker. Shadows that consume all, engulfing nights, harbingers dark of conflagrations rise. Disbelief is our creed. But enough we believe to vote them to power, our leaders we so love. Yet in the hour of decision, we must believe in their indisputable dishonesty. Yes, aliens are around, Area 51 is for real, late night appearances on Larry King live? For the select few, sure, for a select price. Osama did not die. In fact, exist, he never did. Flags felled of the towers twin ? False, them false! How belief, when Iraqs can happen? Whither the weapons of mass delusion? Conspiracy. In bloodlines is our interest but not in the man who gave that blood for us. Alas those to preach that love vested, too are in gossip and scandal invested. Fickle is our love, the mistletoe occupies now the sacred space of the matronly banyan, and the owl upside down, for the dove beloved old
Fickle is our love, slender, our faith...and the Syrians of the world suffer from both ends!
prabhu-iyer
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Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
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