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The Mother and the Whore


Her bright eyes are hewn from the earth,
But her knowledge removes such a shield.
Her mind will betray,
Without reason's will,
Lay her down in darkened fields.

The devil's breath it is furnace.
It necks licks at her desires.
But girls who dance,
By night's firelight,
Are ne'er long for the pire.

I'll drag her into deep waters,
And we'll drown in ecstasies,
But when I grab out,
Her hand it slips past,
And dances through the trees.

The ethers of past they do haunt her.
My present terrorises more:
My unruly ardour,
And my vicious mind,
Are my mother and my whore.

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