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Soap Box Poets

The Little Saint
© by Yurii Broughton

As one sleeps death goes by like a stream,
red in your dream.

You see the saints armour teaming together,
against filthy faces in dark places.

As the saints see a light in the night, they go
to see what this could be.

They see a young girl in the corner holding a
cross bright with light, and ten evil souls laying
on the earth that night.

As their wicked fire was to home and land,
Their fate was a little girl held by god's hand.

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