Less musical a mastermind--
therefore more mortal
and delicate in transience.
Frailty is sanguine,
and thrown
she fears the right to die [alone],
won from our own whies,
which we cannot try [alone].

Crimson petals grown
from disembodied hands,
thrown over the fence,
set as adornment of a shielded-
-yet-subtly-sure
germinate in the soil imbued
by her exacting strike-of-eyes
that discards her impure.

The fence is maddening
and [full] of anger--
it should grow roses
of my deepest pulsing red and the most thorns.
In its impossibility I am pacified
under the changeless sky [;] silently [;]
I will die alone in the colour of my own blood
run cold in isolation and ignorance of the subtly sure face
of the hands that I never saw.

Penned by my hand on the 24th of Glacian, in the year 431 AF.