A Muse for Martyrs

I am the bearer of life with the sweetest milk, 

A heart-shaped womb, 

An eye gazing into the perpetual night. 

I am the keeper of secrets, 

A phantom quartz with many ghosts. 

I am explosions of pink and gold on the horizon, 

A wandering soul, a daughter of the sea, 

A lover of the blood moon.

I am the muse of martyrs, 

A well overflowing and a thousand unwritten books. 

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