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Oct 2015
the flock of ominous black birds,
in a plethora of numbers beyond words,
lands in swarms on swampy, dark mud
as the dead yellow grass is washed away by the flood.
the sky is heavy, low, and gray,
with a gravitational force of depression and dismay.
our vision clouded, we no longer can gaze
upon the warmth of the sun's sweet rays.
moss
Written by
moss  23/Non-binary/Void
(23/Non-binary/Void)   
1.4k
   Mike Hauser
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