The world hangs upon its

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66441
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The world hangs upon its final thread
The screams of the living are now of the dead.
The tears of joy are all but gone
The fear has come, but not alone.

I used to cry every night,
But now I have lost all my fright.
The Darkness has scared all away,
But of itself, it fears only the Day.

I often wonder when the Light will return,
When all the Darkness has fled or been left to burn.
I have fought against this evil for all my life,
And before me it was fought by those in strife.

I think of a life without hate and obstruction ,
But with love comes lies, mistrust, and one’s own destruction.
I don’t know if we’re ready for a perfect Earth,
But we all could do for a bit more mirth.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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