They are silver voices that shiver at night,
The scratched memories, like metal reflections
In my soul that had unbled and undied,
Raping through the debris of resurrection.
Filing a motion, pleading for sanity -
I press my lips - I know the outcome.
I defied the skies, engaged in profanity,
A prostitute who never reformed and was hung.
The Remembrancers had tied a mighty knot,
They tortured, gnawed the busted bones…
And killed for all the things that I were not
And showered dust, and showered stones…
Dead. Silver sighs shimmer and evaporate
In tiny petals of remorse…
For evermore I was afraid, I'm still afraid,
But never crushed, or else supposed.
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