Here lies Anna,
lost without her mate,
he's promised to another,
an honour,
trapped within his fate.
Savage, this hand,
dealt in arcane amour,
her affection cannot placate,
nor dictate,
that which is mired in lore.
Though, such is her sorry state,
even birds try to emulate,
her symphony o’ sighs…
only lambed in death’s timely vow,
doth this bleakest tale excise.
Anna stands with her king Lucian,
marriage...
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