How do we all see ourselves, the days are getting stranger by the minute. Daytime has rolling white clouds that turning into black as the sun is hidden, and the shape of the rain drops are square, as the drops hit the green concret ground, the deadly explosive is span across the land onto the sea and the across the world.
All radio controls are gone, no one can hear my voice, soon I cannot hear my own voice.
Days are pitch black, my mind is else where.
The stars are clear and burning as they ripped through the air of this world, so must my eyes.
I see no more, I heard no more, I walk no more. End of the sea is hence.
There is no truth in the value of such is I. there is no value of liars in such of me.
The closure is final.
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