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Words on the Wall

 Everything was a riot of greenery. Slats of sunlight splashed over everything, slid across the ruined wall and made it gorgeous. Made it pricelessly beautiful. A verdant jungle of moss gently wavered in the wind over cracked brick, pockmarked with so many craters. 


That world had come and gone. There were words written across bleached surface. Red canals between a microcosm of tiny green trees. 


Everything cloaked in vine and wreathed in moss


Of oak trees that rise from this hallowed ground


The birds sing unabated, for silenced church bells they feel no loss


Quiet rivers run down sunken, plunged streets, rippling glassy water slipping without a sound


Lumbering cars lie in shallow graves, rusty and deserted


Rows of houses list under tangled roots that grip and squeeze and pull


Disaster lies behind us think all the deer astride industrial parks, eerily pale as moonlight, catastrophe averted


Worlds of yesterday made hushed, null


I took a long breath and in the tranquil noon, sat, leaning against the wall.

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