Wednesday 24 October 2007

Songbird

That hood, that scythe,

They’re for me.

I won’t let you take them,

Not even with a cherry.


This is not your calling,

Child of the Swan,

Song of Dusk,

This is not for you.

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Talk, my friend. Now that you've read this section, the urge to speak has increased. I know. It's all right. It happens...
Stop fighting it. Talk.