Watching from a distant day, I can no longer
Account for such a wanting of laughter,
Nor the trials in your eyes as you said,
"We're within sight of the Inquisition."
Always certain that this time would surely,
Surely be the last, I inhaled you, fed upon
You, our passion so strong we believed we
Could transcend visibility.
I've never suffered from reservations, nor sunk
As low as to be a temptress, but I have
Hidden away monsters for the sake of catching
Those little words.
Then I discovered forever lying asleep in our hands
And all at once, you crumbled, leaving only a husk.
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