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The Dance of Death
Misty dawn opens its arms
Silent street not a sound
Flowers spread some exotic charm
Honey bees all over abound
A sinister killer is just around
The silent streets weave and dance
The trees rap in a mystical trance
Bridges collapse to the music of seismic waves
They burn, they crumple, not a chance
As exotic flowers swing on lonesome graves
09/3/2012
By Tahera Mannan
For Nette’s “Let’s dance” contest
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