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The Descent MAG
I think I know the ending:
There’s a fire I can’t explain.
An intense heat, smoke like a sheet
Over streets that haven’t seen rain.
I see the life descending,
The breath that whistles away.
Safe and sound becomes destruction bound
And no one wants to stay.
And this is our decline,
Hiding in the dark.
The rain falls and the thunder calls
As the sky begins to part.
I think now is the time
We accept what we have done.
A final cry, a burnt-out sky
Until the pain is gone.
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