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Nov 2018
The woodsman in his daggered cloak
Was given the gift of death
He killed his daughter and he killed his wife
And laid his dinner above their heads
He set out into the night
Set through his tears hard spirits
A scythe he weilded in the dark
And danced in drunken sadness
His blade flew blindly round him
A bird of prey guided by the foolish
He knew not what his actions would do to him
He thought nothing of the mark he'd brandish
And once he saw the truth
Far done was the damage
So much so that he drowned himself
In more liquor and anguish
You see in his drunken demise
The woodsman chopped down the screaming birch trees
Each holding a child
Inside its branches and leaves
The darkness watched in joy
As his precious gift did its work
His blind drunken puppet
Bringing terror unto the earth
September Roses
Written by
September Roses  119/F/M31
(119/F/M31)   
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