deepundergroundpoetry.com
Wasteland
This place seems like home.
So silent and isolated.
Nothing lays wake no movement.
The air is sufficated.
For this feeling stays, deaths approvement.
We are alone.
Is this our damnation?
We remain forsaken.
So many of us have fallen.
Elimination.
Our wasteland.
So silent and isolated.
Nothing lays wake no movement.
The air is sufficated.
For this feeling stays, deaths approvement.
We are alone.
Is this our damnation?
We remain forsaken.
So many of us have fallen.
Elimination.
Our wasteland.
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