Monday, April 11, 2011
Good works never die, they carry no weather,
For the hazards that bring discomfort are fixed,
And the deeds of nature are as fortunate as Beauty,
Dense clouds are above us saying the burden of water.
May we never be death, as the lives of offerings are sweet,
Fixtures are made, productions are run, and the creation did come,
Under the sea and over all the planets,
So that hazards are brought to the back of the throat.