Divine Vengeance
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The evening, sad and bleak, deep in her heart
as each drop of purple rain creates a crescendo in her soul;
on the auburn meadow, she drags her bare feet toward death.
The lavender moon, shattered as debris splashes on her face,
the fiery stars bleed crimson upon her palms,
as the sword of God slashes deep, across the velvet dress.
"It' s time to rest my dear, sweet dream!"
Written by: Tri n Tran
September 20, 2004
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