March 17, 2008
All around, All around
sinister creatures
gather.
Dread grows as doom's
scythe falls against our
neck.
It smites us and darkly
the essence drips to the
thirsty earth.
In madness, we cry out,
while oblivion laughs
cruely.
Now alone, our
supplication falls upon
uncareing eyes.
This is our death.
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