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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #2080347
A woman whom we all seek, yet only few find.
Within the halls of my withered mind,
There wanders a woman dressed
In her absolute best
With a cloth blacker than any you could find.

Her callused heart is somber and kind,
But clever is she, her presence suppressed,
A lonely vagabond dispossessed
Until the day dawns, she is disinclined.

Nightly, my search resumes as planned,
Her warm embrace, I ever seek,
And when I do, she leads me on

To a beautiful and spacious land
Filled with discovery and mystique
Until deep within my own mind, I am withdrawn.


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