The last straw was that blonde. But own up to it,
his loins meandered all the time.
gleams of treachery .
I couldn’t face you, in those days,
for our own good. They were choking
the little Siren. Punished
for her ethereal beauty. Sublime and Junoesque.
They cast a thousand stones,
spewing venom. As she sang--
Sang to her dying.
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