Nov 202010
 

Five or nine times over in a night
the god exalted me and mine, and now
he comes one measly time from early dark
till dawn: I get it up a little, if
at all, and feel half dead. The god of thieves
pickpocketed the purse he used to fill,
leaving the useless part to me, and age,
and now he leads my soul toward hell.

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