Las wars ya in it son who eran.
Es poesía y ya so much literature, that attaches itself Piensa en algún informative escuchados:
"Al amanecer, con la tibia desert breeze, some young rebels wielding swords of ice and lily, fought a fast dance and ethereal with the troops of General Gaddafi. After
harp sound that muttered tanks, Young took the post of Gazisjha, former Oasis where it is said that the Queen of Saba spent her evenings watching the unctuous dates. In this skirmish
flexible and thin, only two soldiers ended with poppies in her chest, and a river crossing lead blue shade. "
But there's war in Libya, we say it is legal but we know that is not Fair:
innocent will die, greed, corrupt capitalists and uncomfortable, energy wells, hypocrisy and tears, every day.
The real tragedy is that we no longer hurts.
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