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!
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
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