Gentle Death

Gentle death remedy of

The bad, mercy, mercy

With clasped hands I

Implore you, come and

See me, or take

Me; what worse things

Love does to me. 

My living spirit is

Consumed and spent. Here 

I am. Where I

Was happy, now I’m

Halfway there. Where I

Walk, pain and pain

And crying. She wanted

Me to come and 

Much worse to bad 

Can death or time

Be. I’m grateful, I

Can tell you, by

The hand of this

Helper: I count as

Many as I say: Love,

Why do you do

Bad to yourself like

The one in the

Inferno does before he

Strikes?

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