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Impossible form of prospective realms

Spiraling, maze of death

Bodies that converge in unison

The quivering visage of god

Lands once golden,

Now dead and broken

Microscopic

Infinitesimal..

Worlds

Life’s cycles revolve

And centuries pass

As autumn’s final leaves

Shall we fall at last

The vision that wanes,

Of what lies ahead

Gaze upon truth

And worlds turned to ash

Humanity, Lives of pain…

Plunging down

Like drops of

Rain