[Republican Era] Floria’s Four-Act Tragedy

“

You crumple my ideals, a page of green hills and clear waters.

My torment is someone’s bowl of syrupy, tangled sweetness.

The land lies shattered, the sweet soup charred black.

”

In the sea of time, all living beings are but grains of sand.

In this vast, troubled age, love and hate have all been buried.

(Seriously, seriously, I really am going to write a proper historical drama this time...)

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