With the sight of your sky
The angels are recalled
And the faith is watered
And bloomed.
The details embody the text
That had its hands over power,
Giving a reason
Not to treason.
Remembering the suffering
Explains the sweat
Of the eternal war
For peace.
Each paint brush,
Is a batch of holly hair of an angel
That tries to paint us
The glory of the gates of heaven.
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