Listening

Lingering, withering, shivering. The world rumbles brightly as the crescent moon makes it's last merciful round.
It's the dawn of the end times, blood will be spilled, blood has been spilled.
Life is just at it's conclusion, or is it?
City's burn, towns are emptied, everything is gone, the world doesn't even make a whisper.
Welcome to the apocalypse.

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