Rebel

Someday these words’d be but ash,
The papers may burn
My screams will not,
Fate you ruthless despot,
You have nothing to break me with,
I already have the cracks on me
And choose to let them be.
From you I take this bequest,
Till my last dejected breath is gone.
I shall laugh as I leave this body,
And laugh at you still,
If I keep breathing on!

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