The Black Owl

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Desecration

In the depths of dreary darkness,

Under the slimy, sleek earth of sin,

Cradled by rotting, reeking roots,

In burning bleakness of black,

Red flames flicker freely,

Here the wandering weak wither,

A singing sparrow of silver,

Deserted,

Desired,

Desecrated,

The pure purple of pain,

Under the ruinous rain of razors,

She lies lonely, limply,

Deserted,

Desired,

Desecrated,

Forever and always abandoned, alone.

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