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Rated: E · Poetry · Horror/Scary · #2220207
The birth or death of life.
Primordial Stew

Under clouds, thick murky haze,
things that burn were set ablaze.
Fire consumed lush fields of hay,
Out; no longer children play.
Wondered if it’s end of day?
What are we all going to do,
When the earth needs something new.
About time it changed, untrue?
Death, disease, pandemic, flu,
in that time life swept aside,
or drowned in resurgent tide,
have our faces turning blue.
Brought fourth from the mountains side,
hot volcanic rock will spew.
Burning all caught in its slide,
then Mother Earth will renew.
While our planet weeps and cries,
not too long; all of us die.
The earth will give out a sigh,
back to primordial stew.
All aboard, deadliest ride!
The world shall have its coup.
For; only the earth decides,
With all its forces unknown,
When we’re toppled from our throne.

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140 words
26 lines
7 syllables

-~w0lfbane~-
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