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Graveyard
Silver weapons gleam in the sun,
Blood-stained shirts lie slack over gaunt corpses,
Moving with the breeze they howl and storm,
It’s the Devil’s graveyard,
Run.
Screeching sprites hop and skip,
Among the gory battle-field,
Stretching skeletal wings they take flight,
No more life,
Run.
Death is among us,
Taking all life within his bloody palm,
His fingers grasp it tightly,
Then, crushed, all life is,
No more.
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