lxxv. a dynasty of despair and hope

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— majorly unedited.

As a statue there I stand;
for the winter I cannot command;
as the snowflakes fall so do my hopes,
while the midwife dies I slowly tie the ropes;
stepping onto the ledge I am compelled,
for my fleeting life has but only spelled;
so now watch as my heart does succumb,
now watch as my mind slowly turns to numb;
watch as the midwife tears away the petals in these flowers,
which fall unto me not in blessings but cursed showers;
for now I have quenched my thirst for the sins of seven,
but it is not certain that I will be able to reach the apex of heaven.

Poesy of EloquenceWhere stories live. Discover now