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May 2013
Oleander fair;
your head resting on a verdant bank
with starkest lilies for your pillow
reflecting the harsh sunlight to light your grey eyes.

Oleander fair;
your lips painted with the bluest flush
parted in innocence
and perfect teeth lily-white.

Oleander fair;
your skin a porcelain etched with fine lines of ruby blue
so faint no more than wisps
painted by an artist's touch.

Oleander fair;
soft ******* so still
no rise or fall
to disturb the tranquil air and calm.

Oleander fair;
face framed by the darkest of red
that flows in rivulets around the veil of hair
matted with such scarlet streaks now frozen in time.

Oleander fair;
cruelty that belies
such beauty
it cannot remain free.
Oleander fair;
at my behest was it done
my hands so stained
with the mark of your demise.

Oleander fair;
the starkest lilies
reflecting the harsh sunlight
to dance upon my silver blade.
The Wicca Man
Written by
The Wicca Man  65/M/UK
(65/M/UK)   
1.8k
 
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