The battleground is my cathedral, But, there’s more to the story, than what it appears. A war written story, from blood and from tears. My son went to war, a very proud man. He fought in Rajasthan, on the hot desert sands. He witnessed his buddies, his comrades, his men, bleeding and dying, he witnessed
What the world has come to now, stooped so down that sometimes I wonder if it can ever rise again. I truly hope it does, because there’s still some good left, but the wrong is weighing down whats left of the pure, innocent and truly beautiful things with it.