Cul-de-sac
Drottnar
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Pride is the stilt
That keeps me low
Tedium crowned me
King of this empire
I wear it unnoticed
I revile
My cul-de-sac
Where nothing is
Of substance
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Silently mocking
Vulgarly acclaiming
Your kind as well
As my
My cul-de-sac
Slowly speeding
To the dead
Come, now
Paradise is
A fix on