A broken night of windy chills, Is the brokenness that kills. A broken night of windy chills, Is the brokenness that kills.

This poem was an exercise in alliteration. But I didn't want a tongue-twister. It was inspired by an... This poem was an exercise in alliteration. But I didn't want a tongue-twister. I...

And my dreams? They’re the orphaned children of this war; Silently dying. And my dreams? They’re the orphaned children of this war; Silently dying.

Can't promise to be likable... Can't promise to be likable...

If it happened then history and humanity will never forgive them. If it happened then history and humanity will never forgive them.