Each murderous thorn, it will vanish like the women and thunderbirds born again, the rampike is covered in frost shambolic, for shame you had none; like the women and thunderbirds death again, oh god am I distant? And homesick, last summer’s eve, you’re a bastard born again, the rampike is covered in frost chilled by father’s eye, I’m handed enigmatical roses; I die shambolic, for shame you had none; lady, daughter, stone I feel none. © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Written for the 6/17/2021 dVerse MTB prompt: Write trimeric following the pattern invented by Charles A. Stone.