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Enchanted by the Incoming doom,
flowers that could no longer bloom
Skies cloaked by brume
Ash colored rain wetting the dome
Devoid of souls yet so lively, a place of life yet so deadly
With the rising sun, did they come
causing destruction, had they done
A blooming rose, was it needed
Finishing those who shall be beaten
A phoenix screech, was it heard
A tiger roar, was it feared
A dragon cry, was it endured
A tortoise shout, was it scared?
Mournful cries and blissful smiles, did they come
When the falling chains were undone
What did the man has become?
Did the divine foresee
That the end is near, or would it be?
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