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My Dearest Kin
To thee, my very own Elizabeth
Content, I smile to thee, for your serenading composure
Is nevermore ominous, is nevermore sadistic
It bestows love and kin.
I swindle down notes into rigid paper
Only to sing and swing ink
To thee, my very own Elizabeth
I barricade within thy grasp
It is I, who sorrows thee every sunrise
Mother – my own – no matter how far a pigeon can travel
To thee, Elizabeth, I am always owned
Say the world possesses a creature thou named Distance
Its hideous form shant surpass my determination to re-connect
I miss thee.
Ah – To thee, my very own blood, Catherine
Depressed I am, for thy face is wearing out
Your portrait sculptured within I
Became gloomed and aghast
Where areth thou Catherine
Thy brother yodels out for aid
Yet prefers just thy grasp of skin
Sister, I miss thee more than
A writer craves an idea
More than a meal
Needs a fork and knife
More than our world
Needs you and I reunited
Both, Beauty and Elegance
I shall meet thee once again
Upon the moonlight graze
When my footstep becomes
A leap… into thy hearts.
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