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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Emotional · #1232942
How an innocent thing can be born, grow and save a corrupt world
Mountain dawn falls upon us.
Red colour blossoms like fire.
Sent of water and dirt runs through the air.
A beam descends. A beam of light - sad, dark, black.
Like coal, forgotten, unnecessary for anything,
a black sun rose.
Swallowed everything. Only the red flower is left.
It was not a red flower, but spilled blood.
Wild, hot, but also dead.
It soak into the tortured earth - the earth perished.
A green tree sucked the blood in - it killed its soul,
murdered its fruit, whithered its crown,
but the blood did not reach its heart.
Black darkness covered the world.
A demon is hiding behind every bush.
Only one heart remained pure.
It fought with its destiny - alone and unheard.
With innocent faith of a child it continues the struggle.
Everything perished - even the sun became black.
The world remain vain and silent.
And in this silence arouse a cry.
A cry - vital, playful and cheerful.
The child had survived.
A long forgotten child in the body of a demon.
The child will revive the world.
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