The Candidate
Standing before
This great door Unentered
Though ye be not passed nor raised
Within you,
Born of the Seven,
Awaiting the New Day.
Atop this heart
Emblazons a crown.
Concealed by fire,
Trial, and might,
And fate-decided
Long feared night.
11 were the angels
Who blessed you anew
Sleepily your eyes crest open
Wet with morning dew
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