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The recompense of war
The streets are empty
the birds stop singing
the children are not playing
the people look wan and scanty
the brooks are dry and frusty
the water taste blood and fretting
the air smells dreading
the seeds of terror grows plenty
war has unleashed her good
her gifts are hunger,poverty and disease
devastation and dead as it stood
no telling when the sun will rise again
when this is over there is a course to ask
who win, who again
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