I Cannot (A Historical Fictitious Poem)
There are so many emotions to feel, yet not enough words to express them.
Only a few escaped to the surface. The rest are so deep that they flow like a neverending river that some want to enter and take a swim.
My present life is the way it is due to a horrible twist of fate, because of delvers participating in occult practices.
So many things have gone through my mind as I lay on the cold dungeon floor at Wildemore Castle.
Master Slaughterdoth glared at me while I rattled my chains, and calmly asked, « Why the hassle? »
My body lies flat as the birds feast upon my brain.
Every now and again blood flows from my head through my nose like rain.
Shall I slowly wilt away?
Every other peck against my skull brings forth a clot.
As the night…
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