Lovely
I walk through the barren wasteland of my home,
I remember the ancient ones, who here used to roam,
on this pitiful land where nothing ever grows,
where the skies have darkened and death flows.
Alas this tundra of lost forgotten lust is no more,
as we have replaced beauty with ill gore.
The sun now sets in the distant horizon and I ask:
For how long will this lovely, chaotic land last?
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