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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #2144474
A poem about the crowd mentality inside us all.
They fed my body to the lions
on a bright and sunny day,
parading about my remains.
Crowds rode their passions
to a violent feeding frenzy,
shouting out with gleeful,
abandon at my demise.
As the roiling clouds parted,
unearthly silence abounded.
Their breath left.
Their souls wept.
Still I died.
Still I died...
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