Requiem of the Rising Sun: March 14
Cold hard fingers
Crush souls
Powerful fiery teeth gnash—
Death rains down on the
Flowers, trees
Playing children
Somber houses
Silence, after the roar of the waves
The groan of the shaking
Silence, full of danger that cannot be announced
Fallen, we are
Unable to form a new world
In the midst of the rubble of the old
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