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She seeks the darkness, it draws her

In the eyes of the raven, she finds

A look of the one most enchanted

Of he, who plays games with her mind

With wings as black as pitch, she lands

By the old gnarled tree, in the wood

Anxious to questions those who take stand

Do they know whether or not she should

Seek out the mysterious one she feels

Each night, as he calls to her heart

But they refuse to answer her plea

And in the rise of the dawn, they depart

 

Β©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0