Voice of the Muse
The poetry of the Tenth Muse
Saturday, March 14, 2009
The poisoned dart spills
Virgin blood
Trembling and weak
She lies in my arms
Hungrily I drink
Wine-stained lips
And she whispers
And sighs
And sings
Calling me like a Siren
Luring me
Seducing me
To ravish me
To destroy me
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