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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2003205

My first try at a triolet.

This ghastly oak doth reach to me,

Limbs so like arms O, wicked things.

It makes me tremble this old tree,

This ghastly oak doth reach to me.

In veil of dark I wish to flee!

What dark lot will my courage bring?

This ghastly oak doth reach to me,

Limbs so like arms O, wicked things!


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