That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
wolves inside me to address this, but the ranchers inside me object, and
wolves inside me to address this, but the ranchers inside me object, and
If you can’t see it you’re part of the problem.
If you can’t see it you’re part of the problem.