(that rose of shadows that rose of shallows) The waves come one-by-one then all at once Yet she endures just the same what a shame ye winners of this mortal game what chance you took when first you mistook the risk she brooked ahhh but you had her... thrashing on that little line squirming on yer little hook but oh, how you chose to still roll 'em dice... ye skillful mice never thinking thrice of all your lice and their awful asking price of the quite unnecessary sacrifice No. You only thought of you... trolls hiding under that worthless bridge defending that barren ridge while tsunamis take their toll while once again, she rolls like the coming of thunder to pull you under her truth that ever-lasting youth that crashes like waves calling sinners one-and-all to their well-earned graves think of Macbeth... begging for that quick and painless death with every single breath so she throws caution to the wind where all sins rescind within every silhouette dawning like that new horizon as only she can like it was always a well-penned-plan So, as long as her breath holds she be the Master of these here molds so long as her breath holds her story will become the scaffold by which other people climb ye dumb and stupid mime her song will be sung much to the chagrin of y'all most determined to sin. X 09/18/2023 *There is a special place in hell for silent witnesses. © Raena Exe 2023 “To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.” William Shakespeare
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“Hell is empty and all the devils are here.” The hosts of heaven have come the time of Roses has begun The tempest finally won spun like fairy tales and fictitious schemes all those things that got ya locked by all them 'seems' A myriad of dreams themes you made so very unclean my fiddle-headed lark my vocational Stark my lonesome ember long after dark Lies have always been Satan's mark But you... you always knew which way the wind blew even as you chose to eschew what the Lord had given you That hand that bit of sand given by a witch so you could finally make your stand to be authentically you and look... look what You chose to do Dumber than a box of rocks or a bunch of cum-filled socks or some silly little locks full of greying hair for this maiden fare who chose time and time again to play the clown to do it all upside down pretending his smile weren't really a frown Twinkle, twinkle little star look how infamous you've grown so far Those devil deeds sewn into a cloak of shame Your precious game of fame And how it forever tarnished Your eternal name. X 09/17/2023 *Some see one, some sew a few, some see them all and know exactly what to do.
Mistress Mary, quite contrary.
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by Exe
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September 2024
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