38 lines
1.1 KiB
Text
38 lines
1.1 KiB
Text
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Saint Sakura
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2019-10-25
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***
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the ides of autumn blow fierce yet again
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and I sit here, wondering if this is a sin
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to be here all alone, sitting under the sun
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mind wandering free, beholden to no one
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two years hence, before bitter storms came
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I stood, looked out through my window and watched the wind play
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through the branches up above, listened to neighbors and birds chatter
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and when little kids screamed, wondered whatever was the matter
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rolling emerald hills where once we both played
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but now, in this life, only I returned to the plains
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only I remained
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now, when I rest my head in my arms at the windowsill
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Eponine's passion gone, Erin's resignation lingering still
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my heart beats like a drum at the end of a song
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fading gently into the night
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wondering if maybe, all along, they were right
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would they carve out my limbs like the stump on the tree
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and then have the audacity to still ask me
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if I yearned to be free?
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the rotting corpse of a bird cloaked in midnight
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an ornament in a fitting golden cage of delight
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deprived of life's blood of work, without amenities tight
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to force a young soul to find meaning in plight
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***
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
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