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Wings
curled up
feeling
yor softness
a step towards
leaving this place
the dark moon
reflects
on glossy gossamer
threads
where i am trapped,
and a meandering menace
lurks,
bloodthirsty,
waiting;
wings,
you lift
and struggle,
but you cannot
lift yourselves.
shall you succumb?
never!
we struggle togehter
in the
pale dark night
and we are free,
in the glorious
moonlight.
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