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The End MAG
There are explosions in the sky,
run for your lives.
An hour of prayer,
an hour of pride.
Some sit, some weep,
we’re left to cry,
faced with our inevitable demise.
The earth caves in,
our hearts unwind.
We sink below
like dirt, like grime.
The old clock chimes
like a ghoul’s shrill scream.
They’ve come to collect,
they’ve come to reap.
Let’s watch the explosions in the sky;
Watch time collapse,
just you and I.
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