Please Do Not Set your Mark on Me


Inspiration hits with a flash, stories written on the go. A rumble of laughter and the tale is heard only in echoes. The wind blows me in a new direction. Whom shall I visit next?

You are a plague. I am a child.

You have the populace beguiled

And spell-bound as you stride around.

Your boots assault and salt the ground.

We see your staff sweep here and yon

In fear. You set your mark upon

The old and canny; young men hale;

Infants' feeble fingers frail

Cannot stave off your signet cane

That sears the skin and sours the brain.

The road is narrow; you are large,

And I am frozen as you charge.

The ones you've marked, now wilted are.

You madness bring to here from far

Away, and lo! I see your face,

If face it is. My heart does race.

If you can hear it beat, I'm through!

My lub-dubs try to run from you.

Breaths come fast and shallow now

As you move lower, brow to brow.

Your visage baleful's death to see.

Großmann! Don't set your mark on me!


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