fredag 19. november 2010

POEM

Ashkab
Old, kind, wise,
He asked his sons to be cold as ice
He loved his sons most of all
But even though they let him fall
His sons are now very sad,
‘cause they did something bad

They were so cold and tired
So they had to kill the man they admired
All he wanted was to help his sons
So he let them take his soul away