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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1460447
Based on War and Death
The time is nigh,
The darkest night has come;
We set off with a sigh,
With there wears in a noisome.

The time is here,
and they set up with there silence;
Shed not no tears,
For they do what they do not out of violence,
But of fear.

The sound of death,
it comes on swift wings;
the dim glow of the hearth,
the quickened pace of those savage things.

Now but silence.

The time has come and gone,
all that is left is bones;
What's done is done,
And none return to their Homes.

All that was heared was the tears of old new and all,
The loses were steep and tall,
and the vicories were not.

The storey of that the harperys sadly sing
of what that fateful day did bring.
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