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Nothing Less Than Beautiful

It is a night of death, a song of darkness,
wolves vent their cry. The beautiful one
awakes.

Evil shrouds her walking form,
a timeless fear.

Her black hair cascades over
fragile milk-white shoulders, and her
full blood red lips part slightly, to taste the
soul streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
her.

Now a night of darkness,
I awaken.




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