Ascetic Priest
Alas, all of man is but a sick herd, / Slavers, master, it is no matter, / An illness of sorts has thus been incurred.
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Author: Caitlin Grimes
Childlike Truth
You think I’m pretty, innocent, and sweet / Yet innocence and sweet is not what I’ve seen.
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Beautiful Speech
Your body flies on a carriage of wind / To land aloft upon the ears of humanity / The question is always does it fit the trend? / Alas, tyranny of the majority is the calamity.
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