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Path of destruction

Crisp the air as lighning dances.
Foul the smell as blinding tendrils steal the earth.
Reaching out to grasp a dream,
only to vaporize in dark motes.
So focused the goal so blind to see,
the path of destruction,
the dried up seas.
What was wrought in veiled goodwill,
has left our lives an inky spill.

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