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The Dark River



It is funny how suddenly you can die
Or how slowly

The way you are born, slowly and painfully.
Maybe it has something to do with karma?
I don't know.
All I know it is taking a long time with me,
It's own sweet time.

The air is still,
The flowers are sleeping,
The growls and screams are slowly ebbing away.
And the river, dark and red
Still flows.

But I remain.
Witness to a carnage.

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