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Future's Scream

Outside the window was a silent world,

sut, debris, and a hollow breeze,

a place where thorny vines curled and festered with ease.

No sounds echoed through the streets,

no animals clambered under feet.

It was hot, but yet not,

for cold emptiness gripped the land,

where not even a tumble weed dare stand.

Inside the window was desolate, lonely.

Ghastly shadows of what they once were,

decrepit broken with bloodied eyes which saw nothing but

blurry lights long extinguished, dancing about with happiness

that will never again show it’s face, to this desolate place.

Outside the window was the aftermath of gluttony;

squeezed, diseased, and tweezed.

And as humanity finally falls to it’s knees, the world with a terrible wheeze,

breathes one last time, and is then at ease.

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