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Tina RSH Mar 2019
From whose eyes shall I reclaim my lost self?
While it is you,old love, that their eyes reflect
Your words having me well under curses and spells
Telling of slippery youth and the world's defect

whose rickety mind shall I enchant to distort
To revive the shape of you again, my sovereign?
You stabbed my back and now I have fallen short
of welcoming hearts of realms distant or foreign

The night is an ill bed for my jagged scars
But I doubt if my dear self was stolen by stars
You sailed on my tears and sealed my lips
And I promised to desynchronise your warships

As I was busy cleansing my tears off you
I knew forever gone was a half of me or two

— The End —