I quietly sit on the sill
Looking down upon the mill
Quiet is the darkened castle
Adorned with strings of tassle
I feel useless and adrift
Vulnerable and alone
I await the fear of descent
And I await to hit the stone
My curious fear rises high
My tragic fate is near
I pray to the dark midnight sky
As I face my worst fear
High up I have fallen
Only to crash down in pain
My tragic death is callin
I am finally sane
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