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One hundred

one hundred years have i stood
watching the moon kiss the sea
five hundred geese do every day fly
over the starlit sunset sky

i speak to the ocean if I could
the lowly dust talks back to me;
bars of iron cutting downs souls
black hands of malice

a white pale scream shreds dawn air,
and hate like fire consumes all light

boorish eyes that once held life
stare blankly at the rising sun
warm blood now is cold
the ocean creeps to meet the dawn
and carry them all away