Golden fingers slowly arise, gripping the edge of the horizon.
The murky shades of Night begin to quiver ‘neath the morning’s piercing gaze.
As the lucent spears of searing warmth pervade my heart,
My waking eyes reveal the wretched form I have donned,
In this numbing quilt of darkness.
I only sought for justice, yet I failed to see the crimson stains upon my hands.
For twilight showed but gray upon my stiff and sordid flesh.
O woe betide this broken soul! My deeds bequeath but holy wrath.
The veil that shrouded once my vision, hath been rent from my brow.
Confound this blinding truth!
Were I yet ignorant, I would not meet this agony.
Nay,
‘Tis justice now, for which I seek.
I shall not raze the hope of this but once.
I’ll duly bear this burden hence,
If all, by end, would come to more than naught.
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