I knew this was going to happen. It had a set time.
It was foretold within the pages of the Times
Perfected to such precision she didn't falter
This was like some exhibit from a museum
Birthmarks showing like some correctness to be worn
This Ionian frill seeker sleeks over tarpaulin. Blood red.
A face that has seen a thousand ghosts, fortifying her life
Now this nude, verdigris compact with correctness is still
The eyes behold this scene of death, of delivery to the gods
This creature never sought reverence for herself. Just justice.
Never craved wealth or material things. Just love and care.
Her pathetic life brought non of these. Death may!
B...