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The Rise of Beautiful Corpses
No one is alive anymore,
We are fingers behind a trend,
Voices behind the hate,
Followers of the dead.
Black eyes filled
With floodwater of
A ruined city,
With tears of the lost.
We hold no light,
Claim no empathy,
Protected by glass
And popular opinion.
Tools of a killing revolution
Relishing in the downfall
Of human kind
And in the rise of
Beautiful corpses.
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I was inspired to write this piece when I realize how important social media is to my generation, and how it is taking individuality in exchange for conformity. People choose to follow a trend rather than stand out, and that is very sad to me. This society is encouraging dead souls.