Cross Stitches

Standard

It has come to this,
I break down again
Treading on dying
Embers through pain
I silently crawl
And sob in vain
A familiar gnawing
In a throbbing vein
It never is simple
Ever since it began
So why do you whimper,
And whine with disdain?
The carousel spindle
Plays another game
And the plot thickens
While weaving my name.

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