okay what happened to the rest of my poem. :(

June 3, 2010

The dying sun has scorched the field,
And every part is dry.
The lifeless yellow ground doth yield
But death, and none alive.

The painful cry do pierce the sky.
Its echoes do appeal
For help, though there is no reply
And soon the night is stilled.

The redness of the blood that’s spilled
Do stand out to the eyes.

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