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Ashes smolders on a funeral pyre,

pray you are not what it desires

A generation of myth and dark lies,

spun in black magic and archaic ties


She is the inky darkness that hides,

the knavery and miscreant tides

Cloaked in betrayal and sinfulness,

riding the breathe of the soulless


In search she remains 'til end of days,

for those who have lost their way

She feast of the pain and the misery,

who beg to deaf Gods for serenity


This nymph she will bring you ease,

your mind and heart she will appease

Know this, I warn that her eternal fee,

will not be worth the brief tranquility

 

© 2022 Spyder Collins. All Rights Reserved.

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