It is our fate to sit and weave,
indeed we, I, my sisters, intertwined
My wish, my hope, that in one incident
I should be allowed to show grief.
A little sympathy for those
who we must
cut.
From the great work of our Sisterhood.

We cannot have Mercy
not for want of compassion but for inability
instruments in vortex of life
Orchestral dirges, orgies in Ecstasy must
to us, pass.
We weave, and as we weave I wonder.
Am i alone? Do my sisters ever think
that just once
we could stop.
Mourn your passing,
rejoice in newborn love.

We, who are greater than you?
Greater than gods, even
though in the same moment, subject to every law
every whim, that has ever governed ever facet
of every
living
thing?
I will not ask my kin.
We three who share so much must keep our secrets.

If, when I have sight,
Your thread is time to
Snip.
I’ll pray to give a second thought,
that in the end
there may be love.
Solitary,
Silver,
Sparkling
Tear.

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