The Story Of Many Stories

Abristry

The sun burns in brilight sight,

life waims the land unjide.

Snow falls upon this herrant land,

We live in peace need not pretend.

Across the sea, they came unbeen,

Marching down men with sins.

Along they brought the pox of death,

Which laid many of us to rest.

Wooden structures that reach the skies,

Spirits scream of hate and despise.

The food they grew from sheep and seeds,

What strange things they did to live.

Men were sordered across the wabe,

To find places to build and expand.

In time they sproils our precious sand

And become the master of our land.

They fratched away our joy and pride,

Our childer lost, nowhere in sight.

For good they said with slithy tongues,

We cried for them, our frabjous young.

Rules were crited as life sperisse,

Wrong was right as Rudd appleace.

Ends the russ, fuss and duss,

Hate and disgreace ebbs and rust.

Together we chortled and we snortled ,

As time changed to melyseand himes.

Hwine and stride side by side,

For the future bright and right.

Written By,

Whimsikel