terracotta tiled town,
teeming with talebearing tassels
whispers whistling where wells are wealthy
while white-lipped wellwishers wheel their war-torn weapons
novigrad, new nest for nuns, and not-so-nuns
nearly naturalised, no one knew of the narcissistic nobles
that had nearly annihilated their nascent niche.
alas, even the altruistic are able to alleviate their amorous advances
against the aberrant accolades of the all-mighty and ambient able-bodied angels.
no one ever said the tears of the gods are wicked.