The White Tower no (semi)colon Stepin's Last Battle

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Wheel turns, 
road burns,
Feet grubs,
man buns. 
Perfection meets the slide
Imperfect lullaby
In me
Power seethes
All heart
Turn cloak
My part?
Stop thief
Liandrin
Love men
State I'm in
Not forming
align the teeth
Get a grip
Pull away
Lay it straight
Conclusion?
Stunned again.


For the murderer's perspective on this death, see fan theory poem Black:  https://atributetomyhost.blogspot.com/2021/12/wot-white-tower-4-8-of-12-light-weaving.html

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