Poetry

A temptation of hair (draft)

It lay as a river

bathed in sunlight,

wrapped tight about

the stark tower

walls. A glistening

enchantment to entice

even the most self-controlled,

beckoning them up

to the draft-filled chamber.

Gold clad, she waits,

singing sweet nothings while

preparing to devour

their gossamer shrouded souls.

 

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