End Of Time
We float in this world as bits of dust,
following the instincts of our lusts.
How do we lose what we haven't gained?
How do we go crazy when we were born insane?
Let's lift ourselves out of this grave,
wash our souls out in the rain,
in Maraschino drops of blood,
we know we can be loved
if we rise above.
The world turns every day
and we just turn away,
don't you know, the time is late?
The time has come for retribution;
we had time and didn't use it,
so how can we then escape?
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Comments about this poem (End Of Time by Kelly Zion )
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