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Someone will have to testify
Leave an historical record to be found
In a cave somewhere
Underneath rubble and sediment
Let those who find it point fingers
And mock
Like they can do better
When it starts to roll in
I snag a bolt of lightning
The smoke in its wake
I draw with my fingers
Then the trees with their leaves on inside out
People streaming inland
Moving in herds
The moon to blood and the horsemen too
It will be a privilege to live through this
A soft rain makes music
I like to hear it when I sleep
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