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I feel as if I am no more
Than a mere acolyte in your wake
With this thing festering inside like a sore
This love that I know is not fake.
A worshiper with knees bent
Before you on the ground.
To you all praise is sent
Though I try not to make a sound,
Try not to disturb you
On your carmine throne of passion
For scarlet is your love’s hue,
Cardinal desires fill my vision.
And your touch scorches my skin
As silently my love grows within.
This is a poem that was written to me by Burmekia Dragoon.
Though I know he already submitted some poems
I would like to submit this one because it is one of my favorites.
submitted by:
Rhea Dragoon
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