Rose tinted sponge under skin
like marzipan. Slice and she shall weep
wine. Inside a vineyard, of vines, 
clumps and berries. In the juice there are 
tears and the story of time. 

My peoples sang as did the Earth.
Till Gods trampled with a treble clef.
Our song, vex and history. The story 
and my tears, all I have left. 

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