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Black Sunday.

Thunder, the dull moan 
of Zeus, vibrates the earth,
leaving an ominous
feeling. A storm

brews
outside, within,
lightning threatening
to strike
my body, mind.

Feeling the sky
growl through shared
ground, rattling
the walls
of my little cell…

Now?

Crackling sounds,
roar of tearing,
sights of utter
destruction, dust

on the ground,
clouding the air,
distracting, obscuring,
blinding, growing

till anything 
is as good as everything else,

till all
is nothing.

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