Last Ones

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A shining, of red.

The last ones, they are dead.

But a glimmer, of hope, sparkles, to those who be left.

Me and a friend, to whom I haven't meant.

But yet I still sense, danger in them.

I must run. 

I must hide.

Oh please, I can not die. 

But when the last to remain, I know I will someday.

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