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Glowy cotton of the sky

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Glowy cotton of the sky

marking the starry night,

She was a fallen angel

Made my forlorn core ignite.



Dress so beguiling white,

hair utterly brazen

her dreamy orbs brimming with

mischief,

I was bewitched with this maiden.



She curtsied facing the elders,

With a soft smile I beheld her,

My heart beat throbbing with her every

breath,

Even in my death, I'd ask to hold her

hand.



Her gentle chortle enlivened the room,

this enchantress would surely be my

doom.

Gazing at her, I realised, no odds to

console,

her mirth spiffing up someone bereft of

soul.



I'm very fond of knives and pistols,

The bit of shadow, still so cynical.

Even the dead shiver at my name,

They have my evil to blame.



Shrivelling even the unattainable of

essence,

I've never cared for anyone but myself.

But now it seems like Christmas came

early,

An angel that soothed even the ever

gnarly.



I sip from the wine in my hand,

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