D1-04 - Celtic Witch

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From the tales of yore

Thee words come out

The tale of a lass

A headless dainty

Who made the heart

Run a flitter flutter

A Celtic witch true

That darkness shroud

And followed her

Ever so bleakly

The taint is calm

And so nicely cool

Let her remain

The same in mind

A figment sublime

An eye candy

To lust for her

Ever so divine

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