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Wartime Apocalypse
The Irish bells Keep tolling,
Ringing for Death's calling,
And the families kept on bawling.
The Scottish churches are empty,
Nobody left to fill them, Not even Heafty
Vikings Kings, strong and deadly.
The English rivers run red,
The Thames drowns ahead,
And man's final curse be said.
One by one,
Europe fell
To an enemy
Whose name we could not tell.
Germany's kings have fled the throne,
The little doll has been left alone,
And the land lies too prone.
Italy's Rome is fallen through the ground,
Not a soul can utter a sound,
Not a remain of humanity is to be found.
France's tower is the only thing to stand,
The rest is buried deep under scarlet sand,
And the rotten food's gone bloody and bland.
One by one,
Europe fell
To an enemy
Who's name we could not tell.
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The black plague was supposed to be the end of the world, and it killed many thousands of people each day. It was a war between humanity and extinction....
But this poem also is a metaphor for all of the terrorism that we see these days.