Plucking mercilessly at your feathers,
Forcing you to descend to my level,
And as horns on Unicorns fade forever,
I'll hold up my palmed hands to your eyes;
Fill them with the tears of tortured leisure,
Desperate little moans won't you come,
Aid me in imitating perfect pleasure,
I'll hold up my palmed hands if you'll cry;
Tugging at the stitches in your soul,
Forcing them to break and slowly tangle,
When the halo shatters you start to shiver,
As the cold of your presence seeps in;
Carelessly, scrape me from your consciousness,
Carelessly, hold me prisoner in your fantasy,
Carelessly, find me slowly declining every breath,
Carelessly, sitting here upon a wanton theocracy;
Plucking mercilessly at your feathers,
Forcing you to descend to my level,
And as horns on Unicorns fade forever,
Desperate little tears are gravely shed;
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