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About This Poem
Through the Fog
The fog makes it hard to see on the path
Candlelight is all that breaches the dark
She holds a pumpkin that gives glowing bath
The eeriness shows death its every mark
Stumbling, seeing darkness and its dire wrath
Following the path, surely to embark
Death follows close behind as she wanders
The only voice she hears is her masters
Russell Sivey
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