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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.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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