Sonnet For Unethical Practices
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I seek the haven past the airlock door,
in coat and collar white my love to meet.
She calls to me with hunger evermore
that I may lay new tribute at her feet.
My love is evenhanded as the sun;
she caters not to sentiment nor pride.
Within her arms the frail become undone;
Her touch will warp and break the feeble mind.
Unto her searing glare I turn my eyes;
I'll bring what sacrifices she desires.
My ears are shuttered to the haunting cries
of those who must be gifted to the fires.
I join the strong of mind within her light,
The weak of will I offer to her knife.

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