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Bad Weather

Topics: classic

A frozen moon stands waxen,     White shadows,     Dead face,     Above me and the dull     Earth.     Throws green light     Like a garment,     A wrinkled one,     On bluish land.     But from the edge     Of the city,     Like a soft hand without fingers,     Gently rises     And fearfully threatening like death     Dark, nameless...     Rising     Without sound,     An empty slow sea swells towards us -     At first it was only like a weary     Moth, which crawled over the last houses.     Now it is a black bleeding hole.     It has already buried the city and half the sky.     Ah, had I flown -     Now it is too late.     My head falls into     Desolate hands.     On the horizon an apparition like a shriek     Announces     Terror and imminent end.

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"A frozen moon stands waxen,..."

Alfred Lichtenstein's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "Bad Weather"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...

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