The tsunami gloom (Amy Barry)
Here and there on the stripped land, where once the flowers smiled, far and wide, green dark algaes and ripped up corals stand together. The dank odours, black earthy wet mud, waft across the thick dull night, faces wear mournful masks, like characters in a tragic opera, desperate to rekindle hope. I journey in the dark, wet cold air embraces my body, my ears burn, my blood rushes to the anguished cries of slow death, I feel trapped, almost dead.
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