Tuesday 9 November 2010

Autumns Death by Francisco Augusto

Silent death be upon us,
Peace be a thing of the past.

Silence is the cleansing opiate
The elixir of those who suffer
,From the fiery, ferocious flames of death.

Tree’s despair
As their children disperse
Into an eternity of bleak virtue.

The earth rumbles,
As silence crumbles
Cascading into the pits of hell.
The black wind breathes,
The white air grieves

For the passing of a season,
A death, with no reason

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