Another magical poem yet again, inspired by “Xena”
All the somber..
all the wretched,
tire and lay to waste in the land
of slumber.
As each new day begins,
fellow sins count their
victims..
tides turn, in the Ides of March..
Solomn souls nailed to cross.
Eternal Limbo,
living only what they know.
Significant moments,
nail us into posistion.
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