Music of the Times by Devin Pavlischak/ December 9th, 2015 ©

He became the booming hour, as she moves into a looming flower.

They dance into the night loud, when I do hear the crowd.

It screams as if filled with fear, from there I can see a single tear.

As individuals are held at times, never have two embraced rhymes.

There lock of hands came once more, a single love was written to shake the core.

The blast came without warning to life, cutting through bones like a knife.

When the bomb showed its power, never can we forget the booming hour.


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