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This man, Mr.Mann, a zealot of dark things?
He worships the weirdest shrines,
where the Lucifer’s pact is signed;
He ruminates over the ruins of wars,
Where lost souls are rusting in gores.
The folks have learned to avoid him,
The man, Mr.Mann, a morbid prophet of darkness?
His pessimism pesters the normal people,
who detests and jests his unrest.
Children have learned of his strangeness,
and a sinister strategy is conceived
to Mock Mr.Mann and his weirdness.
One day Mr.Mann secretly slithers across the street,
To the valley of tombstones where the past is buried;
He carried an archive of arcane things.
The children followed the narrow path,
where Mr.Mann is walking.
“Throw a stone! The weirdo is there all alone!”
The children cries and shouts.
a pebble is thrown and has hit Mr.Mann,
Who drops to the ground with *thud* as the only sound.
Blood brushes against the two tombstones,
dyeing the surrounding grass bed red.
The children ran as fast as they can,
leaving the man there dyeing and dying.
Mr.Mann held onto his archive,
where pictures of the past are stored?
Mr.Mann and his two sons,
smiling brightly to the camera.
On the back of the photo is an epithet:
“We will be back from Normandy, this is our final fight” June 1, 1944
the Man, Mr.Mann, his world ended with a whimper.