I pray, not for salvation
For something too private to say
Someone, They
Forbade my elevation.
Windborne warnings
By way of reply
Satan’s best sailors
His angels of rape
Violence’s princes dually sabre’d.
Week’s midway
O’er which plainsaying
Mercury holds plaintive, unquiet sway.
More soil could be spared, to hape
In hopes of tying up and finally tapering
Her unquiet grave’s untimely capering.
Alchemisland 
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