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Murmurs of the Damned
Silt collects at the outreaches of an ancient, murky marsh.
Twisted tendrils of white oleander form archaic symbols.
Deviant rituals, cocooned and lost eons ago, lie awash—
Taken to the surface, unleashed by a cacophony of demonic cymbals.
Now, time suddenly stops by this grotesque swash.
War is waged, and humanity becomes a mere memento, just a collection of broken trinkets in otherworldly drawers, like lost thimbles.
Copyright ©
Sara Jama
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