Tenderness, aching, ambitious.
The double-edged sword.
Arthur's birthright.
Tomorrow is the Spanish Inquisition.
The great tirade.
The grand torture beneath the terminals
Seeds have been spilt.
Oceans emptied.
Tomorrow marks the day of wrath.
Bitter, sour, distressed.
The brightness of day eclipses the darkness of shadow.
Shadow so essential.
A shadow so dire.
Obligatory, quintessential.
Today I sit alone again.
Sword in earth's heart.
Tomorrow she will bleed to death.
Mother Earth.
She will flow volcanic rivers.
Birth a bastard nation.
A simple, lonely nation.
God help it.
God abort it.
She knows not goodness.
Only the cries of a hungry child.
They must be nourished.
Worshipped.
They must be saved according to Guinevere's last will and testament.
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