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Laura Trueman Aug 14
Alchemist of love
A shaman of the dark
Turned bright
He colored my world
jcl May 12
death is coming, it is a dark point on the horizon
it will be here, sooner than expected, the planet is dying
why are you preparing for a future, the future
why are you denying it is happening, sticking your head in the sand
going about, living carefree, when your children will suffer, millions will die

do you need a quatrain, a burning bush, to see the horror racing towards us
nostradamus didn’t see it, but we did, like a slow train wreck
the air will burn your lungs, the oceans scald your flesh
by the time you react, you will have reached the point of no return
your children are an army of dead men walking
their bodies catching up to their environmental fate
it is too late to cry, it is time to die

what will we do, how will we choose, who lives, who perishes
your cozy lives will disintegrate in social chaos as individual fight for survival
our former rules and norms will vanish, as the strong and ruthless vanquish
you will witness horrors, etched into your mind, re-dreamt every night

scream and cry, it could have been avoid, such is the tragedy of the commons
complacency of the masses, mass graves of the innocent
gods will die, civilizations will fall, as you huddle, shaking in a dark corner
Darkness, by Lord Byron , 1816, year without a summer
In this head of yours
You will find the strangest lands
Beyond, there lies nothing
But the void

Which, too, has a name
Through our gritted teeth
I subject myself to strife
I cannot steal a pair of jeans
From a call to life
Here, behold me
What say you?
Here, you fold me
Teared and true
Before too long,
Youth learns vanity
And learns to belong
In shallow capacity
I must learn happiness
Lest she leave me
To mine own devices
Which have decayed in woe
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