A land often called “Paradise”
A land with never a feeling of ice
A lonely place it is
Not many people are found in this
For it is impossibly not to error
Every lady and every sir
No one has reached her lair
The place truly was very fair
The few who atoned were happy throughout
The tiny isle at the north and south
Where she lies I know not
But beyond our reach, till we know
It’s time to show, that we are not low
We cannot be stopped
But our sense of direction has popped
No comments:
Post a Comment