Panic, it is highly likely you’re going to die

poetry

the moon will fade and gliste
as it flows slowly with blood. or so it
will seem when every stream flows
red from the bodies strewn around as
the end draws near and we fear for
our very lives wondering why we were
foolish enough to bring children into this world.

but I am a mortal being lost in the battle
struggling for existence

and to go down in a glorious firestorm cant
be all bad.

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