And there stopped everything, every roads
A ghastly flow of wind, with fiery swords
Bloods crawl up, bones heaped over
Half of the day gone, clouds began greyer.
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nothing is going to end, just beginning, going deep we can feel, okay, good write, thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
A strained strain of worthlessness make the thread of this poem.Its sense and rhyme are attractive.