Suites of the elite by Keith D Allison Quiet echoes in the chills as a new slaves are being born no ships the lures of dreams Like a woman with child alone in the night as the breath of winter begins to blow the country lies dying they've taken the grace the breath you can see the chill rattles the bone's ancient history circles of realism the battle of shelter and food the blood of war don't let them learn for their tongues bind them you see 10/11/2009 Posted on 10/12/2009 Copyright © 2026 Keith D Allison Return to the Previous Page   pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 1 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online All works Copyright © 2026 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)