We the brides of a scrupulous lord

Once prized dolls now vexing nuisances

Our thirst for pleasure overindulged

Torn asunder

Shivered hearts

Cricking joints

Passions crushed like rotten fruits

Our penance stretches on forevermore

Now we pine for simpler tokens

Silver moonbeams

Emerald grass

Feathered winds

On silver cords we dance and play

But only when the masters say

This forgotten tomb our silent prison

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