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The Tyrant's Lamentation
Awake embalmed,
I out of dream. All ways mine,
All thoughts mine.
Whole world halted,
mind-halting,
studious; sheep.
Me joining,
My dream recording.
Suckling arms-folded,
witness of mother's milking of mine,
tearless.
*
A dream, i never knew
till i died in it,
*
the hands of gallant tears awakening,
Waking up the suckling,
feeding them into giants.
The evolution of red eyes;
Blood infection, invention incurable,
*
A quiet-forged weapon,
A hungry lion came
In the undercover, the blue grasses,
Around where i kneel begging their support,
*
And killed me.
*
At the high ground,
constitution crumbling amended,
The grassland,
votes being cast
or where it lacks voice,
thoughts of theirs Dumbfounded
by I of their feverish fear,
their school of inactivity,
mediocrity my wife their tutor.
*
She has for a while vanished into nonexistence,
Left me lonely at my grave's side,
the ghost that I am.
Political tyranny?
Called all sorts of names.
I am the rod that apportioned resources as it pleased.
I now exist here,Lamentably.
As years of rule a dream,
felt more real than now.
Do they see me sit alone but scheming?
I the ghost only now,
Far-removed from the
the realities around.
A spirit of the dead,
the dead of the dreams
and never-decaying corpse
Roaming the land of the living.
Am i not just a vanishing smoke for a while,
A sorrowful tale
which must reincarnate?
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