(Untitled)
August 8, 2009
Look at me,
I’m gone now…
Whoever thought the skirmish was a drill?
Didn’t you see the archers in the culdesac?
Feel the hail of Cupid’s quills?
Didn’t you spot the hairline crack?
Did you try to cheat death with will alone?
Powering through the essences,
seizing all messengers that came bearing word
Of the empire ever since the Golden Age
How you and I used to be…
And how it suits me so well as a memory
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