Road's End
H
Herbert Nehrlich
0
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Mother, would you close the drapes,
a storm is rolling in.
Sinister and awesome shapes
with the Devil's grin.
Mother, it is now too late,
this may be the end.
Let us both await our fate,
take what God will send.
Can we hope for a return
of the morning rays?
Just before we die to burn
leaving only haze.
Bu şiiri puanla
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