It is a shame to see--a heart trapped in place by divinity
A shame to continue, to honor the life, to burn the wick, revive the light
A belief is surely, now, conviction, and bred to consume, a fabric within
its brightened plume
Of molted whim and cornered heart, a Goddess cannot spin the Earth,
bu to her whim, she is given the power--to press and pull on every hour
This is to be a final rhyme--a telling, sweetened by the time, the ruination of a mind,
comes from the floor, not only the sky
A shame to continue, to honor the life, to burn the wick, revive the light
A belief is surely, now, conviction, and bred to consume, a fabric within
its brightened plume
Of molted whim and cornered heart, a Goddess cannot spin the Earth,
bu to her whim, she is given the power--to press and pull on every hour
This is to be a final rhyme--a telling, sweetened by the time, the ruination of a mind,
comes from the floor, not only the sky
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