My spellcraft was such
That they were turned
Instantly
To stone

They sit there, now
Unmoving and still
Do they
Dream
In
The
Marble

Or is it like death
Body a husk, spirit
Departed
For we
Know
Not
Where

I do not know which
Comforts me more
Kindly dreams
Deathly dreams
Or the
Sweet
Oblivion
Of
Long
Ago
Murder

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