1. Pope Albacore
    I dream now,
    woven brilliance
    in poppy fields.
    Looking back is
    not an option.

    Succulent fauna,
    new to me,
    flow through the
    These lands are not
    my domain.

    I look upon the
    crest of the path,
    fearing the climb.
    Sweat and blood flow
    out from me in rivers.

    I keep falling,
    lost to all that
    I am afraid.

    -Pope Albacore


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