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Penance

I dwell among the roses
so the thorns can bleed me dry.
The pain of beauty, such a beautiful pain

I hail grace, and lost all taste for this bitter womb
The cradle of my desire.

No more fantasies sprung
from this fountain deflowered.
Only shadows lurk in the silent nightmares
of this lonely heart.  
Written by Reavenheart
Published
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