West winds blow hope throughout the west lands of freedom. In escaping the devils neck crank. Am I now the batman and not the joker? In a soprano high notes battle, she touched me with divinity at the foot of mount Zion, that I am now brave enough to climb. As a child of the creator I hunted those words of value. So if she's the beauty I must undoubtedly be the beast she civilized.
Smith Shine Poetry 
Beautifully written🌻
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