“Alice’s Last Stand” – a poem

Climbing to the summit of self appointed gloom
My featherlike touch will topple your mountain 
There will be no salvation in the truth
And rocks will fall like tears spilling from my jar
You pierce my red heart with your words of stone
Emotionless and hard and jagged
My eagle will swoop and circle
Protecting my soul from your vulturesque words
Raining down like lava
Melting and destroying all in it's path
You fall down the rabbit hole of solitude 
And I remain strong at the cave's mouth of discontent
Fighting off all who threaten my brood
With all the strength and patience of the Jabberwokky

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