FLORIDA SHORES

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The rocks are approaching.

Getting closer to the shore.

The waves are foaming.

Growing stronger each day.

The sky turns darker.

Filling with angry, grey clouds.

A mist forms on your skin.

Leaving traces of tears behind.

The moon glows yellow.

Its skin blighted from shame.

For The Dead come today.

To take back our lovely town.

Florida shores won’t be the same.

When The Dead play their evil game.

THE DEAD GAME

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