Those deep dark eyes had stories unrevealed
Those withered pale lips had tales to unfold
She daidled in search of a stash for her
As this colleen had no comitator
She was a young berry-a wisteria
But the hex on her engulfed her wholey
She has stains on her body, not on her soul
But the stag declassed this milady
She stood like a statuesque
Her womb bears no fruit
The wyvern has tirled and tiered her
She had fallen in a tole
It trappled her to death’s agony
The wolfsbane had wryly parched on her
His worm eaten mind never heard her wretched weeps
She was a kind of slate
Fate turned her into a blate
His blasing wolfshound gave her no chance to bid adieu
For death has swallowed her from tip to toe
Groaning in pain yelled her soul
It echoed for a while and perished forever


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