๐“๐ก๐ž ๐Œ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ง๐ข๐ง๐  ๐‚๐ฅ๐จ๐š๐ค

Entangled in darkness
A web of poor thoughts,
Constricting in my mind,
Weaving into complicated knots;

Upon my fallen form
Drapes a robe of black,
And within the cocoon,
Molds a mentality more abstract;

These wings shape from fabric
of The Mourning Cloak,
And in their stark shadow,
Births a woman whose spirit awoke.

August 8th, 2024

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