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Dec 2011
Terror rains, volcanos to ash
no sun, no warmth, cold bones
cash cities fall from sky to rubble
big or small theyre all in trouble
popping, screaming, lungs collapsing
no breath just dust
tidle waves beware sunamis out there
land to water inandated not vacated
rivers of blood, all alone, isolated
the flower of birth can now emerge
from the earth, old habits submerged
A butterfly free to cry through the cosmos of time
space is mine with the Creator divine
Jeffrey P Mothersill
627
 
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