Tilting Windmills: [836]
A Triolet

Solitary, you toil long in the fields, out there, alone,
Staring down any who attempt to come to your aid.
Hauling upon cable with hands that are worn to the bone,
Solitary, you toil long in the fields, out there, alone,
As if by working yourself to death you could atone
To Anubis, who waits silently for your last heartbeat to fade.
Solitary, you toil long in the fields, out there, alone,
Staring down any who attempt to come to your aid.

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