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His Judgement
my eyes filled up
and tears slowly grace my cheek
the gods has played they cards
and someone near
may fall and let the blood flow
here i know the unpredictable
is only a knock on heavens door
death my friend is here
his clouds he set up high
and rain embrace us with care
but water doesn't wash these blood
stained hands
as the gods play
and he with the highest hand win
yet sorrowful we are left down here
his law is law
and his judgment let it be past
no questions as to why
so take this time to say goodbye
poem
by
Robert Roberts
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