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What Remains

Oh, for the sea

ever weeping for the darkness.

Beneath its taunting skies so scarlet

let the blame lie with the dead.

 

Let it lay there, let it fester

not a soul would dare refuse

not a soul would lift his head.

 

The blood drips from their fingernails

 

Not an innocent remains.

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Written by
allison-wright
American
Published
Jul 22, 2011
Lines·Words
9·52
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