Marble

It is released from rest
On top of the incline
Every second squared
It only gets fine,
Oh that friction
So despicable
And loathsome,
Not constant lament
It deserves
Not blatant disregard,
If not for the scratches
And the rubble
There to fine
How would a marble
Ever get its shine

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Extinction

When the final war ceased
When every breath stopped
The world became silent
Only to be broken
By the cry of an infant
There was no bird in the sky
There was no story teller
There was no place to hide
No brotherhood, no pride
As the infant’s cry stops
We race towards extinction
All too many predictions
But what for?
Who knew
This would be the last war?
Who knew
When no one wants to live
Even God runs out of
Fucks to give?