Genuflect before the earthen vessel
Those who come to seek absolution.
A widow's screen on a cracked façade
A mesh of signatures etched
On kneaded clay
Where pilgrims return
To find their mark.
Crocodile blooms have long been scorched
The glint of thorns blind like steel blades.
They abandoned the mores to walk the edge
Then tripped on the air that brought them.
Strangers tarried to drink the wine
Just passing through, just passing time
Waiting to reawaken.
After all have fed
They quickly fled
Leaving shards and dregs behind them.
The quest ends here.
The snakes are slaked.
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