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What barren landscape could
ever hold
The weight of Mars’ truth
untold?
Earth, dry as parchment
scalding hot
Bones, too baked and dry
to rot.
Limbs of trees, all gnarled
and bare
In deathly poses, wailing
bleak despair.
Frozen wasteland, where icy
blasting wind
Slices through all whose souls
have sinned.
Breathless voids, where perish hearts
too frail
To withstand the onslaught
of Mars’ betrayal.