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The Autumns - The Wreathe and the Chain

The Autumns- The Wreath and the Chain


The Autumns - The Wreathe and the Chain


Cold ivory hands
to blood-thursting lips
lace fingers joined
from whence shall they sip

Silver their eyes
yet with tongue-swollen lies
graces with red, fettered rose
still the smooth venom flows

Soft spoken spells
as their voice often quells 
thus alluring her near
so alone

fly to me
fly forever, hold me
hold me

Polished her skin 
of an ivory blend
weaving sorrows within
as blue eyes turn to dim

Cherish the wine
of the fool's concubine
strangling as she fades
so alone

I question why they kissed her
inside a hollow whispers

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