Hermoine

Here's a thought for you, do you note what comes first, eaxh image in your view, wish you'd never torn, tongues from those who thirst, beaten bodies broken forms, your sugary tea like glue, leaves little time for mirth, to regard such terrored truth, was it by the score, you spouted lies well versed, all of them wrung raw, wonder if I let hate accrue to place you in a hearse, I'll leave history to choose, I won't get lost forlorn, neither run cursed, not me without compass, when monsters converse,