Will The Spring Answer?
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And this autumn air
This smell of blood
How familiar they seem
Yet how unfamiliar
How goodbyes multiply
On the trees
And on a land torn by grief
The discoloured fallen leaves
Like the charred bodies
Can't the ground hold anything else?
This discoloration of life, this trampling
On the weak and the fallen
When will it end?
Will the Spring have the answer?
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