Reapher
Out of the crevices, the draft of madness travels through the darkest of shafts. Unevenly even, scaled with the snake, burns her eyes. Fear talks where and when she decides to walk. Widowed, before she removed the shade from her shadow, first she was, first she will be. Beauty you will never find, not when the Moon is full, not when the sun sins by the heat in the day, in any creature as displayed in any witch way. Tall she stands, femalustculiar felined, carrying a sword, engraved, fitted with fire flames the inverted nine. Decay, she rides, in darkness the mare was forged, which is known as the devils horse. Stolen, she takes, ask, she will tend to last. When you see her, dead you are as death was tothe past, your soul now will be bend to her bough. Ice litter her face, tears she has never seen, not in this decade, who counts in years. Death is coming for you, she appears, her colour violets for blue. The whispers from the trees, shallow through the hollows, ReaPheR, she is the follow.
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