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THE FALLEN HERO

  • Feb 8
  • 1 min read

By Lauryn Taylor


Morals

scorned.

Shattered mirrors mourn

disillusionment, presides as

shadows darken. Tears drop,

staining clipped wings in stride.

Strength once, reigned. This

rigid body suc- cumb. The

bloodied taste, of

righteousness.

Defeat.



 
 

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