My spirit is broken, my wounds are clear
The cloud cries out, cheering defeat in splendid array
Unmasked with uncertainty
The castellan band banters near, with exuberant drums proclamating victory
Everyone casts judgment
No one wants fault
All who support have withdrawn their endorsements
All shadows are hidden, foretelling involvement at best
When vanity is achieved, all fall with tragedy beneath their knees
Persistence in clarity
Slay the beast with hardened stride
Strength stricken and incapacitated with exhumed fear
Brilliance in the crowd, achievement in death
All cry, "Slay her!"
The knife of necrosis upon her breast, she stands with pride
She decrees commiseration
The mice display no mercy
Extinction demands nurture
Her reputation is evident
The highest level of uncertainty
She is a martyr
For she bestowed brevity when she sacrificed her very existence
However,
In the end,
Only GOD
Could take away her freedom and loving spirit.
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