the sovereign's last desire— would be heart. not his name.

burn bright
like starlight on still water

holidays happied

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unbroken squall, where silence long had stood.
shadows bear no fangs—what is darkness to flame?

veils of silk, dissolve; twilight thoughts- precipitate.
erring lights wane phantasmally, and obey the lattices of dreamer's will

unwelcome shapes entwine twisted— with affliction
slumber undulates, last gasps of astral loom— still