The Furies

 

A faint whiff of the antiseptic
Breeds delusive wishes out of hand.                                         
Silence blankets the land.                                       
dashes into the past
drifts into the future
applying the suture, as ye go
to confront the holy trinities of fate,            
dishevelled, palpitating; discomforted.
Free of all the burdens of the present.
W...

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