Locusts
like wayward thoughts,
in swirling swarm,
dark pestilence
from nowhere
suddenly descends
upon verdant farms,
darkening the summer
noonday sky;
hapless, helpless,
whole villages
scramble, stumble,
trying to fan
smoky embers
of hastily built bonfires,
to stoke torches' failing flames,
ah, frantic futility!
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