my prey same young or old
I encroach into her safe space
my presence none too bold
The slightest pinch
She does not behold
A sharp knife inch by inch
The air she scolds
My gentle blade
Cuts through the night
Most brilliant torture
Is giving years to fight
When she asleeps
Her dreams my lair
When she awakes
I am still there
She sobs and cries
I do not subside
Soon one day
I would have to retire
Grave first
Who shall?
She or I?
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