It is not the wound, that makes the pictures blurry.
It's the scathe.The scathe, that the culprit imprinted.
It's not easy to ceaseTo a culprit in one of the spirits have burned you once, twice, and thrice.
POEM 41: It's the Scathe
It is not the wound, that makes the pictures blurry.
It's the scathe.The scathe, that the culprit imprinted.
It's not easy to ceaseTo a culprit in one of the spirits have burned you once, twice, and thrice.