Stood up to wear a sentiment-proof vest,
Walked away with pride locked safe in your chest,
Where before on the soil of this battle you fought,
You buried your heart, and brought forth the force of your thoughts,
She prayed
You buried your thoughts and brought forth the force of your sword,

She offered her faith, handed over her shield,
Surrendered, tendered through her own will,
Ruptured her spirit to help, did all she knew,
Then turned into a rose but her canker was you,
She prayed
She turned into a rose and her canker had grew,

You sipped out of her heart to nourish your soul,
Ripped off pieces in order to mend your own,
Brought yourself to your knees and helplessly kissed,
Then what remained you moulded between your palm and your fist,
She prayed
What remained you moulded between your palm and her wrist,

The carrier of your love, the contact of vented spleen,
In your time, and space, she’s suspended in between,
Bewitched, from your touch, submitter, to your voice,
In your palms, and possession, she’s possessed by her choice,

The gift to your life, the unwrapped and misused,
In your hunger and greed, what more could she lose?
Shackled to these fears, she pounces, at your call,
At service by your feet, your beloved – in thrall.

At service…
By your feet…
Your beloved…
In thrall…

Rose up, to wear her sentiment-proof dress,
Packed away her wings, dreams, locked safe in her chest,
Erased from her mind, any joy that she knew,
Then numbed her whole self to everything, but you,
You prayed
She numbs her whole self to everything,

But you…

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