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Oct 2010
The desert land
Stretches on like an endless sea
A vast chasm of nothingness and emptiness
And all that exists
Is the hot sanded wind

Crouched down in a ball
Loneliness is the only companion
To the desolation that has become life

Peering at the setting sun
Knowing the terrors of the night to come
The knife holding promises of peace
And it beckons for the warm flesh of serenity
And the blood of tranquility
--'In the Wasteland'
Written by
The Muse
978
   decompoetry
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