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Rated: E · Poetry · Sci-fi · #2119318
Something of a fantasy, about the end of all of us.
Irradiated ashes scar my face
And intense sun blinds me
Yet I foster onward
In Unscathed Lands I will be

All fall in this great race
In hope, I fall last
Yet I cannot atone
For the sins of my past

Dust mask falls
Dusk calls
In Unscathed Lands
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