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The Widow Who Cries on the Moon MAG
Darkest of All nights
The whites of my eyes … engulfed by
flawless darkness
I have been awakened, but I do not want to rise up
The Eerie crying of the widow who lives on the moon is back
Her boisterous weeping
Resonates through my ear.
She is calling me
I know.
But I am the only one who can hear
her voice.
She is calling some more.
I know.
I cannot answer her call.
I clasp my cross between both hands
I gently draw my knees to my chest
I feel obliged to adhere to the widow's demands
I am huddled by darkness's chest
This is what she wants
I know.
Sadly, I am the only one who can hear.
Of course … It is cold.
I know.
The weeping widow. She is close.
I know.
Two knocks.
But who is at the door?
I know.
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