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End Of Time

By , London, Canada
Every breath an echoing shout,
Across the deadened planes of yore,
The stars burnt out with prospering doubt,
This lifeless world of forever more

The bloodied earth trampled by feet,
As men charge forward against the sun,
Mounting blasts of cannons yet no retreat,
No place to hide with no chance to run

Every man enemy to the other,
With no certain reason to this quarrel,
Nor how they could hate their brothers,
Place this war above their morals

And now no man stands nor speaks,
No sound but rushing tears from high,
That touch the dying world they meet,
Leaving mouths agape in question: Why?





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