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A Gothic Dream
Deep blue silkin dreams.

Mahogany yesterdays open
to golden tomorrows.

Nightime slumbers ever so  loudly under a silvered moon.
  
Sparkling light to       
the children of the night.
       
the hunters
       the prey
  
Dark delights -
               The senses.
   
Masking the horror
with beauty, then fading swiftly with dawn.
 
Melting into the shaddows..
Ilea Roze
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