Cold
A sun, as everyday appears anew, derives from the east.
The coast, as a beckon of hope while the day dawns,
This day is the same; repetitive in its redundancy.
Peak hour, noon, welcomes the lighthouse of the sky,
The god of day, the defeater of darkness.
Screams, shouts, cries for humanity,
A new presence lurks, slipping over the sun.
Shadows
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