| Under the darkened, ancient oak
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| Gentle in the night’s breeze
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| I stop and stare, rest a while
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| With hands upon my knees
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| Through jaded leaves, bush and scrub
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| I spy my journey’s end
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| Black it looms, silent gloom
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| The castle called Avend
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| On I trot, past forest eyes
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| Past horrors of the night
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| Through the dark, I see a sign
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| A gentle glowing light
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| Upon reaching the castle I ascend the ivy
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| Towards the window
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| My heart pounds, my breath is rushed
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| As I fight both brick and branch
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| The ledge is mine and over I sweep
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| Silent like the snow
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| Quiet, I slip across the polished floor
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| Tonight, I will dine with chance
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| (The Blue Lotus, a legend, I thought a myth
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| Old poems and stories gone)
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| A beauty of unimaginable lust
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| Both men’s hearts, and Gods, were won
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| Skin like milk, an angel’s face
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| They say her smile could kill
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| Her hair the blackest of all black
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| Stories I thought though, still
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| So there she lay sleeping upon the bed
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| (Half covered by fantastic silks)
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| Her breast I see, moves with her dreams
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| A sight I will always recall
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| A single candle that shows the way
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| (Through forest, river and hills
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| Glows upon that lovely skin
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| Shadows dancing around the walls)
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| Closer I creep, toward my prize
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| The Blue Lotus lies before me
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| Her lips are full, red as blood
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| Moist as they invite me
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| Stoop I did to kiss those lips
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| In that glowing room
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| When suddenly, she did awake
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| Her eyes filled with doom
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| From silks, her hands were round my neck
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| Escape there was no hope
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| A flash of teeth is all I saw
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| And gone was my throat
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| Her blood lust deep, she swallowed me
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| Red was all I saw
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| She drank her fill and watched me fall
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| Gently to the floor
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| A league away my death is found
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| By locals who tend this land
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| Who lay me down in shallow earth
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| A single lotus placed in my hand |