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To my next door, resides a country at war

To my next door, resides a country at war, you may mistake the smokes out of it to be from factories, but they are of inflammables. At every second sound of gun, or in tinkles of coins, do know, that's how a void screams
To my next door, resides a country at war, you may mistake the smokes out of it to be from factories, but they are of inflammables. At every second sound of gun, or in tinkles of coins, do know, that's how a void screams
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The Dream Doodler

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