Starvation thrives in the wet, cold world.
They look at the lights above for hope,
Men, women, and children, abused.
Never to see their home again.
Barely fed, continuous pain.
Trauma flows in their time.
The deadly fog is closing in.
With darkness falling fast, the night growing cold.
They think of their star; millions of years old.
That was struck down the way the people were.
A new star is born.
Death to the hated.
The piece flows very well. Good job.
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