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Treason a closet chamber, cradled dark; hands lay still, birds ensnared a rest of damask silk. No mourning cloth nor seemly veil a piece of crepe to declare grief all forgotten; no decoration for sorrows such as these. Where do you turn in darkest night? Heartbeat’s loud, echoing cold fingers press back the riving tide of all your heartfelt treason. Consistency in grief dauntless courage uphold you now through your hearts severance all loyalty betrayed. |