Pristina

My love does not sustain me -
Autumnal rain, alerts anew
For loved-ones long since missing,
Cordon over whole hearts blue.

Nor now hope sustain me -
Basalt-livered, they stood
Our sodden searchers down,
Blood-deep in myth and rue.

My mizzle-soul in mistle,
We cheered a plum rakija!
Secrets in a windy keep,
The citadel is incomplete

And so we dance mazurka.

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