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I have visions of you emerging, in your grace,
out of the water.
Unclothed, in your purity, you wade out.
I have visions of you sitting on a throne.
Your seneschal resplendent in his white frock, lowering the crown onto your head.
You simper, but your eyes are as cruel as stone.
I have visions of you standing before the altar.
Throwing your crown down before his feet.
It shatters and time becomes irrelevant.
Love and life, fear and history, all temporary.