Osiris' Poem

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Your tears will be washed away. For no sadness shall come to the beautiful. Unless brought upon by the wicked

And I am the wicked. Your fears are my doing. Your dread I spin hand by hand.

Your pain and suffering is my work. Work of which I take much pride. The beautiful are preferred. And if I have chosen you be grateful.

For you are beautiful to me. Your goddess. Your wicked. Your fear is mys sustenance. Your tears the wine I drink.

When you beg it brings me joy. For you think that will help you. There is nothing you can do to be rid of me.

I transcend God Himself. I am eternal. I am never ending. I am the true creator. Begging will not suffice.

The only end to your torture is when you finally give your soul to me. And then only then will be free.

Free until your mortality runs out. By nature or pure wicked coincidence. You are mine. You can not get away. You are trapped.

There is nothing you can do.

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