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Dec 2017
I crept into the narrowing shadows,
darkness nudging light,
effusive stench burning into me,
dust swirling towards the pocked
and punished moon,
when the screaming stopped.
amongst the rubble
greased by blood
a solitary hand grasping
the final thoughts of
an annihilated soul compressed into
brick and steel, lost in pain forever.
Written by
Stanley Wilkin  greenwich
(greenwich)   
  303
 
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