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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Other · #1692678
Dark, possibly apocalyptic, it's up to the reader.
There's a whisper in the dark
that's drifting through the clouds,
a Sleeping Beauty in the park
who screams her dreams aloud.

Crickets sing in symphonies
of hatred and destruction,
as volcanoes scorch and freeze
in violent red eruptions.

And Satan leaps into the skies
when angels choke and fall,
and even God lies down and dies
so demons rule us all.

The garden of Eden is rotten,
but the apples retain all their red,
and misery is all to be gotten
when the good in the world is dead.

So snakes are filling the oceans,
tears replace blood in our veins.
The end always comes in slow motion,
life has but death to gain.

But there's another voice in the dark,
a murmur splitting the skies,
as Sleeping Beauty in the park
snaps open her bright crimson eyes.
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