The White Lady

Softly, vengeance comes
with gossamer veils misting
behind, riding upon
the night wind

She bears upon her
long, white train, a
candle for each soul
collected, lost

forgotten

In her hands, outstretched,
steel bared drips
one crimson drop
that, unrelenting

Feeds the Earth,
renews it with the
lifeblood of the slain
brought to silence

extinguished

© Jan. 4, 2006

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