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The Vagaries

Mere vagaries dwell

On parchment old

Written with quill

In blood

Though, if your eyes

Should read such scribe

You'd flee 

If only you could

But scraping brain

And flesh & skull

The ills 

Shall burrow deep

Such sweetness of

Poetic sorrow

Shall free your soul

To weep 

 

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Poetrysorrow

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