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I WILL SING OF STONE AND IRON AND CRAFTERS AND SHAPERS AND ILLUSIONISTS AND MAKERS OF KINGS AND CITIES AND CASTLES OF GRAVEL AND AMBER.
I MOUTH VERSES UNVIRTUOUS.
I KNOW OF THE PAIN TO BE DEALT HENCEFORTH.
I LAY IN A BED OF ROSES AND KNIVES AND FEEL ITS THORNS AND EDGES.
IT IS ALL OF MY OWN MAKING AND MY MAKING IT IS ALL.
TO RESHAPE, TO REMAKE IN ONES OWN IMAGE, TO GAZE BEYOND THE MIRROR AND SEE THE NAME. TO MOLD IN FLAME, TO SOLIDIFY IN ICE.
IT MARKS MY SKIN AND SUPPLANTS MY HUMANITY.
I TOIL NO LONGER.
I AM.