Vanished
The roof has borne its share
Of winter's chill, summer's heat,
Of storms and rains,
The wood consumed by termites,
Spiders weaving webs throughout the home.
Ants have claimed the very foundation,
Young rats, in ruinous floods.
The people, they were scorched
By literal fires, or by a hidden agony
Hoarded deep within their hearts.
They became exiles,
Driven by a neighbor's torment,
Or by utter destitution,
Or by the callous neglect of their own kin.
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