They'll all be gone
both the twilight thorns
and good flowers of dawn
torn apart dressed
and millstoned water
dripping through my hands
fate contained in traces
of a large scale manslaughter
sprinkling all the lands
it'll be gone as well
alongside the last of hours
when a single moment can tell
life from birth that death devours
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Added by Poetry Lover
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