Vigil
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LadyFogwreathedMoon |
Vigil
The window's sash
is down and locked,
the curtains heavy
before the panes.
Thick darkness seeps,
but as she sleeps,
a cross lies on her counterpane.
Her watcher dozes
slumps in her chair.
Then sparkles start
at a mirror there.
A sinister face,
morphs out long white hands,
which find and tighten round the watcher's neck.
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Times Rated: | 202 |
Rating: | 9.809 |
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