The day had set,
The heated steel now wet.
The grip was wrought,
Beside the heated flames now shot.
Forged from heart and compassion,
Idealized for honorable action.
Used for desire and greed,
No one would take heed.
The hammer had arisen,
Finally giving shape to cataclysm.
Terrors of indescribable accounts took form,
Finally molding every face weary worn.
The skies parted as fire poured from the sky,
Onto the already battle scarred ground where bodies lie.
The weapon was to be sealed away by fire,
For it had created such a situation dire.
Fire had created civilization and life,
But now it left desolation and strife.





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"THE SOUL NEEDS A CHANCE TO DEVELOP"
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The silent stars dance across the sky never to be reached or understood.
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" The further i get from the things that I care about...
The less I care about how much further away I get..."
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