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I've got
new soles in my shoes -
the worn beneath, a comfort.
Curling over the edge,
I peek -
a scene below.
Things are looking up.
Remember the Inquisitor:
with jealousy on guard,
he slew the general's maiden
o'er night with handsome bard.

Remember the Inquisitor:
a grisly image make,
to see the young girl crying
and burning at the stake.

Remember the Inquisitor:
no questions him were asked.
The general had him quartered -
a grief for maiden masked.
Disheveled I travel -
hills unkept -
warm light to accompany me.
Waxing waves
withholding wane -
a flooding furthered furiously.
Reaching down
to earth's caress -
the weight of leaves and bark,
and dew -
weeping
willow weep.
In time I would hold out a branch -
a place for bird to be -
when all at once the wind did strike!
and take the limb from me.
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