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Outside the Fire Circle
Tragic messes are attractive -
She knows; she's been there.
Everyone loves a train wreck.
Shining knights congregate,
drawn to the conflagration,
jousting for the privilege of rescuing,
taming the tempest.
This crone is much less interesting
now that the scabs have hardened
and stopped itching.
Half-hearted breaths
won't wake the embers,
and heroes don't rush
to wisdom's smoulder.
"No matter," she thinks,
as she watches, bemused,
from outside the fire circle.
For light can be found in her darkness,
a sweater will do for warmth,
And chivalry is dead anyway.
She knows; she's been there.
Everyone loves a train wreck.
Shining knights congregate,
drawn to the conflagration,
jousting for the privilege of rescuing,
taming the tempest.
This crone is much less interesting
now that the scabs have hardened
and stopped itching.
Half-hearted breaths
won't wake the embers,
and heroes don't rush
to wisdom's smoulder.
"No matter," she thinks,
as she watches, bemused,
from outside the fire circle.
For light can be found in her darkness,
a sweater will do for warmth,
And chivalry is dead anyway.
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