The Sitting
There was a sitting
A séance of sorts
Spirited shadows danced
In the dimming wick
There was a woman
Lover and the weak
a carver and red meat
There was a priest
father, a prayer, king
of the weaklings
There was a rising
A séance of sorts
Spirits of sudden stir
sudden dead wick
And the woman
Lover suddenly weak
carved some red meat
There was a priest
father of the weaklings
slayer of the wee
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