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DISASTER'S TOUCH
Ebony shining eyes
Peek through a mask
Of terror
From blackest dungeon
Within reach
Of sure death
Mother's breast
Beats loud
In rhythm
Fearful of undoubted loss
Her joy
Reaches new heights
Her baby is alive
His small face
Should be etched in horror
But the air brushes his cheeks
And her hands reach out
To grasp him tight
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