Den of the Cyphered Wolf

Saturday, June 14, 2008


First every thing dies.
Green grass stops growing,
And turns into a dry dreary brown.
As this happens the sun goes bye bye
Its not going to be seen again a long long time.
Then the people go.
Outside’s no longer fun.
Its to cold to go out and run.
Finally a crushing blanket of white powder covers up the ground.
The little life left around me is covered up and frozen.

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