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Why is the age we live in worse than those preceding? Amid the grief and horrors we endure It touched the foulest ulcer, blackened, bleeding, But brought no miracle, no cure.
Still to the West, the falling sun the sky embosses, Reflecting on the cities' rooftops to the east. But here, the reaper chalks our homes with pallid crosses And beckons ravens, and the ravens come to feast.
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At least proof read your poems before posting them. T__T
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Snet
United States3573 Posts
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Gah. Thanks for the catch, that was awful.
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Pretty crap I must say. It's like a polished high schoolers poem-- nice sounding but the ideas are still tritely presented.
This is the best line of the poem and it's only decent at being the best: But here, the reaper chalks our homes with pallid crosses
C'mon; ravens? Blow me.
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