letter to the aristocracy

thou hath spent thy days

in tatter'd pages

where words art king and queen

— shook spears

through golden hearts

of jesters and merriments

scripting stories

f'r jewel-ton'd princesses

while dwindling trees burn

under crimson clouds

to entertain their masters

warm'd by the speckl'd sunlight​​​​​​​

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we are all stories

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midnight hymn