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poem - The Gospel According to St. Bastard

Jan. 3rd, 2006

09:09 pm - poem

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Dirge of the Rose

His be no seed that brack the stem
Wrap hands through grass that wafts
Catch full hands and strike at cort
Our are no wise to her that wilts
Rend and gash the bark of we
Fill with dreck the croft at lows
Bring a crown drench with bile
His be no rule that struck her down


Date:January 4th, 2006 02:24 am (UTC)
I likes!
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Date:January 4th, 2006 02:25 am (UTC)
Thank you. The spark of inspiration came from reading Kris's entry.
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