A slow, sick fire consumes my prison of flesh,
and a dark pain runs through my body like a raging river.
I feel that the road is marked - it leads to oblivion:
to thrones of flame and screams of jade.
The slow pyre of withered hopes
casts a ghostly shadow on the blade
that patiently awaits my arm.
There is no more light in this
Terrible Winter.......

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