Tuesday, January 11, 2011

An old thing spoke to me.
Its words had followed it to the end
Faithful beyond death, 
Bound by something I did not understand.  
The old thing was lonely and vain, 
And asked only to be admired 
Now at the end of its time.
I could not oblige and so it died
Dissatisfied and unfulfilled.
I was godlike at that moment, Divine
And deadly insistent in what was mine to give
And who should live and who would not
For Love was in my hands 
A bloody knot that I had tied
Considering those ridiculous wishes 
That were granted at my birth 
And upon living
Subsequently denied.

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