All was lost

A dead man hopes not,
Lays still to return to dust

We were drowning,
Heads tucked inside,
Our woolen coats

How low would we sink?
The weight of our misfortune,
Heavy on our shoulders
In the ocean of despair

The sun faded within the ripples,
From our wearying arms,
And intensifying darkness
To accept the reaper’s scythe
And meet  blades of judgement

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