I awoke, dazed from the dizzying dance of death,
to find my love half-spent. Rage shook my frail frame, that it should be spent thus, like a cheap coin carelessly tossed to a restless child with no cherishing warmth to hold onto it till the end. The child in a hurry to attend an illusionist's gathering slipped it into a pocket with no bottom. Caroming off the curb, rolling aimlessly until it hit the gutter and sputtered lifelessly into the smelly abyss. This is where I awoke to find the executioner near the sentence, neatly inked, in hand. |
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