It rhymed “desire” with “funeral pyre,”
and closed with “...thus, I stand redeemed.”
The judge said, “Odd—no space, all fire.”
Each line marched out like neat attire,
iambs in rows, a formal dream—
it rhymed “desire” with “funeral pyre.”
An echo here, a fractured lyre,
a sunset soaked in self-esteem …
The judge said, “Odd—no space, all fire.”
The...
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