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Cries of Their Plight
In the dead of night,
they cry out their plight.
Agony, sorrow, anger, pain.
They cry out desperately to those not yet slain.
They grope through the night.
All without sight.
In the dead of night,
they cry out their plight.
But all are without the light of love
and will receive none from the heavens above.
Great poem. I loved the descriptions. Really took me away. Keep writing, this rocks!