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Dakota J Dawson Feb 2018
The bottle is soft
To touch
Caressing my sorrow

Crows scream
A usual tune
Prudent, but useless

I have to run
Into Rome
Where eagles fly

Caesar across the Tiber
Cicero in *******
Pompey unfound

Liberty is dead
The restless have arisen
Dread seeming to bribe destiny

Sword and stone
Catapult and Trieme
Feelings are fleeting

Houses catch the flame
Blades seer flesh
A list has been made

The weak are dead
Strong circumcised
Demons feed

— The End —