who remembers his master's passing
or the insanity brought by hunger
in the people always fasting.
Striving for the retribution for living all these years
and contemptuous of monotony, the greatest of my fears.
I pine for evanescence of my freedom to enjoy my life
and the hours pass that turn to years pining without my wife.
Oh if I could rewind the clock and gain the freedom of today,
I'd spend twelve lives in prison to fix this wounded way
but alas I exist in shallows of my callow, wounded way.
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