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| Poetry |
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| The Crimson Rider |
| The Crimson Rider A rider one rides on through the night this rider is indeed quite a plight the moon lit night shows the way of where the rider goes astray crimson rider I do beseech thee my life do not take from away me your galant blade looks crimson of blood, It surely hath done not good, At what point hath you chosen this antagonizing, the moon lit night is cold, though I feel mercury rising you stab your sword right through my heart, now my own crimson ride will start, the last thing that I do see, is you scowling adove me, I go calmly into the light, I wake up from my slumber, alas there was no need for fright. |
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