As I play my Lyre.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
What an artist dies in me.

Submitted: February 13, 2012

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Submitted: February 13, 2012

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The fire burns, the fire burns,

In my dreams, I toss and turn,

In my room, I sit and fiddle,

As the world figures out my riddle,

The fire spreads, the fire spreads,

I play my Lyre, for those who are dead,

And when destruction finally ceases,

I bring my thoughts and put back the pieces,

The Christians, for they deserve the fear,

Their screams and cries, this joy I haven't seen in years.

I'm just like my Uncle, I love a good laugh,

As I have mother killed, for standing in my path.

My life goals, what I long to be, 

Oh how I wish you were there, so you could see,

It is a great loss. What an artist dies in me.


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