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I Am Your Holocaust
Stars create an imperfect design of the perfect holocaust
I take the form of a terminal disease and there's no way to rid yourself of me
The impending doom will not pause itself for any man
God can't save anyone from me, he won't hear your prayers
That figment of your imagination called your dignity will falter in time
The waves will crash down on you from your lack of motivation
You can do anything you set your mind to, but it won't save you
Face the fact that your end is near
I am your holocaust
poem
by
Dave Brucker
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