Apocalypse
In the last two weeks,
Fire burning wind,
The ground doesth tremble beneath the feet,
\Holes in reality,
Real or dream,
Fights with paodophiles every morning,
Splinter in the minds eye,
Shouting voices 'infinite pain our future,'
Storms violently tossing people on the ship of fools about,
Screaming pit of souls,
And dark dreams,
Eye of the beholder and death running,
He's coming.
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