• Vol. 03
  • Chapter 11
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Pitch lake for an eye,
He stares because he knows
Even after death hair grows,
Ripples in the wind tunnel of time.
He stares because he sees,
A school of corbeaux curating the city,
Pterodactyls hunting in tar.
These days, dinosaurs fly out the oily depths,
Saying time be damned, Earth be damned,
Give us another chance.