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Riddle me tender
Though I may speak in riddles, it tends to tell a tale
One like no other, once captured under the spell
What lurks in the shadows, there's lasting discontent
And there upon the gallows, where many lives were spent
Lies a truth within the walls, life within the trees
Valley of death arrives, alone at ones bare feet
The crow trusts no one, as the fox he is sly
The creeper of the moon, the Apple of my eye
Copyright ©
Chris Spencer
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