23 of March

          And to all the world I do kiss... lips of poison and puissant toxicity... emersed in the dead silence of war.  Alas pity- to all those who had bore weapons; those who raised a barrel and let lose demons of hell in all fury and sounds of bullets.  Bullets flying on the wings of angels... to all those amist the smoke which settled with the many lifeless bodies.  The death of cause, the cause of death- the ghosts and the ghouls and the demons, 'joy' for how they die in frustration.  Woe to the conquered...




[I ask that everyone reading neglects my use of 'improper grammar/punctuation etc']