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EVENING WRAITHShadows deepened as a cold moon arose, illuminating this wraith like illusion. Veiled in black she glided morose, on garden paths paved with confusion. The weeping willows, weeping tears, in the misty gray of twilight. Permeated with the pain of years, of love's betrayal turned to spite. She had faith in love bound forever, dreaming dreams that were never to be. When that dark day, he found another, left her in deep mourning, endlessly. From that day on she became reclusive, living behind her garden walls. All human concern she found intrusive, hearing only the haunting nightbird calls. The walls that became her prison, and the paths she somberly walked, became ravaged by times incision, cutting deep with all portals locked. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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