Death

The rose petals red,

That wilt upon white ash.

As smoke billows above in clouds

Numbing the leaves of willows and oaks.

In a mist of grey cloaked air, 

as crowds of vultures fly above

Crowing too their sinful tune.

As what lies below is beneath 

the reaper's great loom.

Last breath taken,

As death draws in.

Only one alive in flee

A strange little boy with one strange eyes 

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Who lived in the house by the darkened sea.

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