The cold inside

The cold inside the division 
I call room has frost in our hearts
Conjured evil by no means known,
An angry lack of vocabulary, 
Called description 
of a mean mother fucher.  

Children of blue eyes and black hair play around me. 

My insurance and  ignobility are balance. 
A common lance at my endurance,

Let´s pray for us all, eyes at the skies above.

Hands grabing a magical dove.