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The Suicide of the Nemesis

She was all misty and obscure and a touch of being guilty
Divorced from her inner self, she had married the outer city
The voices beyond the bounds had become eloquent and clear
She rummaged wildly for a howling zoo that could cloak her fear.

Anesthetizing the lyrics of her head and heart
She endured a loss of face; gave her life a stagnant start
If only had she not paralyzed the core of her selfhood
Did not beleaguer herself to the veiled elixir of the wildwood

Brooding in a dark corner, with demure creeping into her face
Flowed a constant stream of rhythmic memories of a mellifluous phase
Her graceful amiability for self was swiftly unrolling the panorama of mystique
A flame of transient scarlet crept in a swift diagonal across her cheek

Just when she was becoming cognizant of the imbroglio imbued
And was pilgrimaging for a panacea so she could elude
The harbingers appeared with an evocative message underlined
"you have chosen to close the gates of downcast, halcyon is not far behind

The chariot shall turn; the wheels shall change their course
Be thy Talisman and let your faith re-enforce"
So said they, as she concluded her ephemeral songs of blue
Breathed the petrichor, all the dead leaves she threw.

Nevermore dissemble yourself to please their violent and mendacious tongue
With your head in the cloud and feet on the ground, sing the song unsung
Be a phenomenon, conflated with boldness and courtesy earned
You walk alone to your deathbed, was the lesson she learned.

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