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I S A A C Sep 2022
staring at the horizon
waiting for what is yet to come
the moment is tantalizing
but my past is paramount
escape it for a night, once in a blue moon
take what I can get, embrace the wiggle room
not everything is set in stone and finished
not everything is as good as I predicted
I need to allow
I need to get out and touch some grass
make myself strong enough to last
random splashes of cerise
were painted in the eve sky
they predicted a morrow
of beaming sunshine
Marte Lindholm Feb 2017
Answer my tenderness
With love, not hate.
And my drunkness,
It is getting too late.

The drugs you gave
I am getting addicted.
I became your slave
This is what I predicted.
Here we go again
As the winds pick up
I can hear the howling
The echoes of the past
It's coming upon our spot
The rains threatening to wash us away
This storm that's approaching
The fortune teller predicted
In our hands our future will come forth
Will what that wrinkled hag come true
It's only moments away
Should we hunker down and pray
Or should we fight the odds
Forgetting everybody else
Live in the present
Embracing everything we cherish
Knowing our love will shelter us
Fire burning in the sky,
Caught us all by surprise,
They storm in, hard boots hitting the stairs,
Foreign-language screaming with their guns,
As we hold onto those who we love,
All that was, is gone.
A new law was placed, which they won,
Take caution for a new world order,
You can't run anywhere, they closed the borders,
All will choose their two choices left,
Imprisonment or death.
This is a poem I published on July 6th of 2013. It predicts the downing of a 777 airplane, which was caused by a country invading another country. On July 17th of 2014, yhis poem became a reality. Exactly a year and 11 days after I published the poem, a 777 plane blows up over Ukraine, due to Russia invading Ukraine.

— The End —