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Shadows On the Night

Nothing quells the fury where anger dwells; her skin pales, and incantations begin. She sells secret potions and magic spells; and in her heart, she'll not forgive his sin. At night, amidst ghostly shadows of light, she calls forth demons as the evening falls. Her fright overridden by magic's might; she scrawls a pentagram on bloodstained walls. Anxieties rise as she wails and cries, conjuring hate at an alarming rate. His lies cannot save him, and yet he tries, for fate has left him in a frightened state. Once more, she cast spells to open Hell's door; and swore that he would suffer evermore.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Date: 2/27/2018 11:20:00 AM
Like the say nothing worse that the wrath of a woman's scorn. But this is beyond! Poor guy is a goner for sure. Love your internal rhyme within each line, produces a very rich rhyme scheme and very enjoyable and memorable poem, Emile
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Emile Pinet
Date: 3/16/2022 11:07:00 AM
Thanks, Line, your support is greatly appreciated, my friend, Emile.
Date: 5/26/2015 1:13:00 PM
Awesome....Sharon
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Emile Pinet
Date: 5/27/2015 8:39:00 AM
Ah, Sharon, now you're spoiling me, thanks so much. Emile.
Date: 4/29/2015 12:25:00 PM
Emile, there is no scorn like a woman's, great write, 7, and thanks for visiting my poem, nearly. . .
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Emile Pinet
Date: 4/30/2015 7:56:00 AM
Thanks so much, your support is greatly appreciated. Emile.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things