Where are you Going...
Where have you gone?
Did I utter a spell,
did I do something wrong?
Pale eyes turn to gold
as they trickle down blood;
& we call her as such,
for it covers the hood...
Blood red as the rider.
She steals by night,
taking the hearts
of the pure ones.
Holding their beating
to the moon, just so high
that the weak are left
fearful and bleeding.
I never thought this true
Til she came after you...
She stole it.. well, in a heart beat.
& I find it quite clever
that she may be here whenever
Even when the wolf not be...
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