Premonitions once foretold,
Grace our presence, a sight to behold.
Breathless throughways and doleful silence,
Consumption of souls and hearts of the masses.

The collective yearns for times of bygone days,
A past that is but a shrouded isle of halcyon haze.
The terminal limit is near, the end is within touch.
Solemn ruminations can only do so much.

Pray thee to the Eye in the sky,
He who knows what afflictions must warily arise.
Can these actions reverse what has transpired?
Isolation in the highest courts of divinity and the desired.

Time stops yet, there is much that can be done.
Hope is our beacon, our light and our sun.
Take heed and listen to our declaration,
We may still listen to the sultry symphony of affirmation.

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