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Twisted and mangled plans for the future lie all around.
Dying dreams scattered in the churned-up mud,
As a light but steady rainfall of dread cascades upon the carnage.
The accusations are steaming from where the rain hits it,
Both sides fired shots at each other so rapidly the barrels warped beyond recognition.
Rusted fields of barbed comments lie between,
Where even a knick could spell infection and disaster.
New dreams arrive to replace the old,
But are torn asunder just as quickly,
Hard truths rake their lines as they cross,
Torn asunder by those terrible things.
This place was once nice,
Full of hope,
A place of peace and happiness,
But now is lost,
To fire and steel,
As the guns finally fall silent.
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