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Jul 2020
Angry winds stirred up ghosts of sand
As his thickly gilt coffin was paraded
In front of his well wishing plunderer

Dark bellied clouds loom over the spectacle
They hide secrets from people, ancient and ominous
Whispers like sharp bristles sting those dead ears

The untimely clap of thunder is heard
Rushing from the distance
Like a Banshee's scream
Written by
Somewhere over nowhere  17/F
(17/F)   
228
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