Crisis Eminent:

Hold your breath,
For it may be your last.
I’ve heard the whispers
From the bay, and
Feel the storm at hand.
We sailed, full knowing
The risk, the wreckage,
The pain, and though in crisis
It feels all too real,
It was always at the edge
Of what we knew.
Do not pretend;
The storm knows no lie,
And though we came to live,
We had always come to die.

In response to:

Crisis

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