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The Whispers
The fishes have all disappeared, The rivers have dried, And the land lay barren with dust swirling winds.
The tress have all fallen, In the air, you see the birds no more, And as you breathe the stench of death lingers.
Whispers say it was God, who got angry, Others say it was the mushroom bombs that caused all this,
A Deafening silence encircled me, I can hear the wind howl.
I grew up running around wild bushes with lavender colored flowers outside my Father’s plantations,
He died when the bombs fell and with him his plantations.
I am waiting here, standing alone in the open grounds… listening to the whispers, maybe they would bring hope
By Lisbon Ferrao
The tress have all fallen, In the air, you see the birds no more, And as you breathe the stench of death lingers.
Whispers say it was God, who got angry, Others say it was the mushroom bombs that caused all this,
A Deafening silence encircled me, I can hear the wind howl.
I grew up running around wild bushes with lavender colored flowers outside my Father’s plantations,
He died when the bombs fell and with him his plantations.
I am waiting here, standing alone in the open grounds… listening to the whispers, maybe they would bring hope
By Lisbon Ferrao
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