The skies have grown dark,
Filled with ravens' wings.
I long for the diamond's
Gleam of stars,
For the cold ice of
The moon's grace.
But the stars are dull,
The moon bright crimson.
Blood spills,
Cries ring out,
And lives are destroyed.
Mankind lives in
Constant war,
With no respect
For this planet.
We've lost so much,
And gained so little.
For how many more centuries
Must we feel this pain?
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