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Tambrey Hall

Tags: dark, love

On a nocturnal Sunday by way of  frost,
"Ave Maria, maiden mild,"  
as the chill of autumn wet's my thirst
in oaken woods and dark's quest,
where fawn of dusk opens my gate
in the cellars of Tambrey Hall.
 
And as my lead follows my need
for your amethyst chatoyant eyes,
and nines lives of the sable cat,
I felt your heat spat my name
As the chill of autumn wet's my thirst,
pulsating my hunger.

 

 

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