Pull your head out of the water.
This feeling you have seems
To suffocate you to bitter extremes
Like water boarding done for a militants
Sick twisted dream.
Who knows what waits for us at the bottom
Of that stingy lake that seems to have our name
Written on the surface of the water with the leaves
From the dead trees that we grew up with.
Their days were numbered from the day
The lakes surface was breached. such purity, spoiled.
By the insanity of a single person.
Who knows what was left when the waves brushed
The surface with its golden ripples reflected by Ra*
Himself.
What grace, beauty, divine pleasure
It was to look out at the surface, and see the elegence
That was stitched across the waves of this horrible
Nightmare.
What a sick and twisted reality it was to see
How much hell had broken lose.
*Ra Description
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