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Imaginary
I recall quite the face:
Livid in motion.
Whilst dead as a slate.
Enchantment seldom broken.
She pranced about her tomb,
Content as could be.
Loving her “life,”
And everything but me.
In the depth of her bloom,
I made but a sound.
Anticipate the scythe,
And destroy such a frown.
Diminish thine womb,
And all that could speak.
With this sullied knife
My passion could peak.
They recalled quite the face:
Dormant in motion.
Without a trace,
Perpetually broken.
He whom is always twixt blooms
Lost to the sea.
Destroyed such a “life,”
And all he could be.
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I really liked the emotion emitted through this poem and I made a Rhyme scheme called rhythmic purgatory for it and it goes like this:
A
B
A
B
C
D
E
D
C
F
E
F
C
G
E
G
A
B
A
B
C
D
E
D