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The Ultimate Secret to Unlocking Apocalypses  

The world wraps into a ball of ice before my eyes, 
I scream and look out for the gods not to converge along
But they do, like molten tar, forming
a yellow yolk for the thick crust without
To witness it all, melt away,
I hold on to my prayer book even more firmly.
They left me with the word,
And I wonder
If in the beginning 'there was a word'
In the end too, there will remain the word!

Picture design by Anumita Roy

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