We All Know, Right?
Dear Atalanta—so close to that life—
That life that you desired with all your being—
Torn from the path by the wicked curses—
Ruined by—not the fruit of one’s actions—
Ruined by the fruit of his inaction—
Your feet—bare, your hair—loose, your eyes…your eyes…
Torn from the path by the wicked curses—
So close to that life, but how could you know?...
His ravenous eyes have caused your ruin.
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