Secondary not one more,
Be thrilled to be here,
He steadfast manner and held hand high.
Can’t say you didn’t see it,
Can’t say you didn’t hear it,
But the eyes see deeply at night.
Not that it matters,
What little remains,
A remnant of a forgotten peace.
In desecrated corpses we lay,
In a future world set aside in lenient light,
Edging more to the light.
I very well might,
Xenophic refrain not otherwise specified,
Though I suppose such is the rain.
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