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The Golem and the Girl

A golem of ice and whirring golden machinery
had of himself such an abyssal loneliness
befitting of his ere instilled wandering timidity
but notwithstanding knew he his hermitage injurious.

On journey sleepless trod this mystik fabricant,
his demure to butterfly and beast known full true
to angel, elemental, many a druid and elfkin
yet by circle of man Hunter’s purse if ran through.

Belying his pain, even unto yon effervescent spirits
the word was never more effluent than the decanter.
Of intimacy he sowed camaraderie oft by trinket
but the eye and ear ne’er blissful but in searching gander.

An elven moorfolk, dancing in robes pink and azure
once set beside the chilling of her own bones, spying the kindness his heart wished ever endure
rest aside, cradled his head, and soothed every bemoan.

Thus but a fortnite for deadening frost she stay
with the man transfigured in supernal apathy.
Quoth he pained in parting, “Woman doth thou pray?
For by thy gentle company doth mine muted heart sing divinely.”

Replied she, “wherefore know we well too solemn thought
for all earnest corpus, incarnate pith to word resists.
What cannot be released be prayer sensed and let un-fought.
Of invocation, I know no onus, but in truth, heart holds all cognate myst.

Do pray my dear derelict, pray so complete all jot and title
may in the the venue of thy spirit for soundness be
created, resonated, thy course better flesh than brittle,
for silence of the reaching heart is the most beguiling murderer of dreams.”

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