Darkest Hour

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
poem of darkness brought by people.

Submitted: August 12, 2008

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Submitted: August 12, 2008

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When the darkest hour comes all the people in the world shall feel the depression coming upon them like a tsunami.

Pain will spread over the death of loved ones and the more people that die the more people lose the will to live and pass as well.

Then the angel of death flies above us all and we become our shadows as the world grows ever darker.

The clouds come to stay and rain the tears of deathupon us.

The world now is as dark as a starless sky we all stare upon asking for mercy to the gods thatwe have no proof exist.

All turn voilent, crime and disease burn through the rest of our shallow souls.

We forget our gods and destroy everying in our path.

The earth dies with us and our darknesswhich is now to spread so far as to heaven and hell.

The soul of life is and always will be as corrupt as our black hearts make it.


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