No Splendid Child

No cursed goddess, no divine being,

No splendid child birthed from the molten Earth,

Or even not a plain sensical being.

But I may hold no premonitions,

And no music may play from my throat,

But I hold a soul that sits unrotten

And a heart that sees, though small and fading,

And I retain those secret memories

Far after I’ve forgotten.

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