the unsung sufferer
we in vauxrose again bohs
this is NOT the same narrator as the last vauxrose prose [HA] but ill let you figure out the fuck’s going on here
emerald tears cascade down my face
i weep for what was lost but nothing had lost its place
far was i from the site of the war
safe was i from the pain of the pressure
so why do i feel the grief of a widow?
why, in the night’s sky, do i drop to my knees and wail?
upon my tower is where i sat when it struck
but i was far enough away, thank my luck
perhaps it was my selflessness that cursed me so
a hefty price to pay for a life to remain
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