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Phobic Shadows And Moonlit Meadows

That night was weird,
restless and bright,
for the moon kept shining this awkward sick light.
The winds came forth as if it sounded like a little child.
No hundreds! Seeping as if they realize it's toime to die.
Raindrops keeps failing and failing like tears.
Like the infant's sorrow, as if it's raining from their tears.
Then what happened no one could tell, but mark my words,
it's a pretty sick trick from hell.
Goodnight..
Sleep Tight..
My mistress in white..
Sweet dreams of death and moonlight.

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