The world is completely green to an innocent mind, but an innocent mind is indisputably blind. Evil has no chance in water and I've swam a Spring river, says a friend called Latifah. Ask her who sinks the ships in Bermuda, she would never know it's Lucifer. I once read about a lady. In the house of her parents was an adored baby. Give any code of conduct she would always obey, not in any way rough or uncouth; she would walk splendidly without relay. But sometime, her dresses started to fade, and when she went to a river to bade, she was kidnapped and eaten by a mermaid. No revenge possible; a river is not a place to attack or raid. To a child, the world is beautiful. He would sit by fire, not afraid but considers everything wonderful. But soon enough when burnt, he gets dreadful. Writers know what the world is: a man could gather all sorts of wealth but for a while would the wealth be his. Yet when we write we call the world "beautiful", how we love to tease...
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