The dark skies over head, chilled wind blows through the trees. Water covers the ground, mud and muck replace the trails we once traveled. Dreary is the day the rain comes down. Weary do the souls of mankind become. Its as if God has cried for our lost hearts, and the crying can not stop. Damned are souls and bodies have become. The flood waters rushing down. The earth soon to be wiped clean, rid of man and his machines.
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