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Damocles

There’s a sword

that whispers

above

my head.

My heart-

beat gnaws

at gnawing thread.

At gnawing dread.

Dread’s hands are light,

to catch a beam

not seen at night.


The scales I measured

Will soon break

-Atlas dies

I’m left to fate

The house of glass

I built of air

Will shatter in

A silver glare


In Satan’s refuge

There I find

The pieces left

Of shattered minds

Of shattered times

Times left from mine

The pieces left

With hands of rhyme


There’s a sword

that whispers

above

my head.

My heart-

beat gnaws

at gnawing thread.

At gnawing dread.

Dread’s hands are light

to catch a beam

not seen at night.



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