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Grace
Poems
Jan 2022
Decay
decay;
it is the spring goddess' advantage against her immortal lovers
undying as they come
they fall to the ground -
fall, fleeting life like the petal of a flower, wilting without water and sun -
Persephone's is the hand quick enough to catch the appendage;
she is old and new all the same
for as she dies she is reborn;
unlike the gods, who know, always, decay -
decay, but never death.
and that is so torturous,
to flinch at biting doom
yet never see the teeth it bares.
poor prometheus
Written by
Grace
F/Voie Des Papillons
(F/Voie Des Papillons)
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guy scutellaro
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Weeping willow
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Mike Adam
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