Raven’s nest

White snow in the moonlight,
rime ice on the wabe,
white frozen, Victorian fountains,
in the center of this forest rave;

White reflections from the placid lake,
silhouette of a women adrift,
white glimmer of her red lips,
blinding as she possesses the mist;

White mountains peak in the distance,
where she guides me in the gloom,
ice crystals beneath her feet,
with stumbling footprints she swoons;

White fingers entwined with mine,
flushed as I hold them tight,
thick drops of blood dripping from my neck,
glistening white as she bites;

Her white skin smoother than silk,
rising with the mist when she comes,
white lilies bloom whence she fades,
with my screams in the rising sun;

White roses I lay on her grave,
the empty one in my chest,
I still visit the forest, the rave,
in search of my raven’s nest.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar

Pen it... or aaa type it. u know what i mean.

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