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Rope

Sickly draw in

The prey

My noose is well fitted 

Elegant and luxurious

So tempting

Tantalizing

I sell it like it glitters 

A necklace

Can I interest you in a dance, my love

I like

The way you stray further as you chase after

Search the heart, pull the reins 

Tighten the strings, echoes of pains 

Writhing, saying, not all that glitters is gold

Sheens of silver lining turn crimson to write that,

at least the lord will judge me

© The Sad Owl

Categories: poetry Prose

Tagged as:

The Sad Owl

I'm just here. Until I'm not.

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