The Departure
Murkier the world goes every day,
Dark clouds cloaking every Sun Ray,
Wetting the grounds with blood and tears,
Thunders follow, of pain and fears.
Voyage towards a better place,
Looking for a trace of solace,
Poor souls resign the worldly greed,
From anguish and grief, to be freed.
Someone rejoiced these demises,
For the vessels held some prizes,
Worth much more than the souls inside,
Won only when the angels died.
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