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Tainted Princess by Empris Durden Her neck cranes out the tower window, She squints from sun-blinded, red eyes, The clouds are mockingly cheerful and white. She envies the dust’s escape. Her hands clench the stone window frame, Dainty pale fingers, stained mildew green, Nails screech against ancient plaster. What a sight. Hair matted, gown bloodied, powder streaming, Crown scraping down, down, down the turrets, Wails spilling from distorted lips -- She thought he was her prince.
Contributed by Empriś Durden