How cheap this jewel of self worth
To the highest bidder we cast our tawdry
lot.
Yet with each fumble of folly, we
promise ourselves
Our last. But powerless, we cannot stop.
Our double meaning tongue, this web of
lies
As we spin our tales tall to the tip of
the spire
To find in the cruel mistress of morning
light
We have extinguished our inner fire.
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