By Kirtiman Hazarika
Beware the Witch so fair of Face,
Possessed of Beauty, Poise and Grace,
For Vision seeks while Darkness lies,
Lurking beneath her Storm Shadow Eyes.
Where men have fallen, and so have I,
There is no comfort we would deny,
To forget a fraction of Her trace,
Or the lingering need for Her embrace.
Now while the World is full of Life,
We are in our Winter, full of Strife,
No Tartarus for us to plead and pray,
No piping, Love shall never come this way.
What Deathless Beauty the Gods may Know,
And we Damned, who can't forgo,
The Cursed blessing of Her cold, wounding glance,
Has poisoned us with the wines of Chance.
By Kirtiman Hazarika
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