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Last Maiden
The last maiden drifts down the stream
upon a bed of flowers lost in a dream
her eyes lye closed ever in wait
for a once foretold fate.
Wearing a dress colored in cream
the last maiden drifts down the stream
softly the waters whisper her name
birds lit upon her as if they were tame.
Gently comes the song strummed on lute
while sailing on her destined route
the last maiden drifts down the stream
pale and still she appears serene.
The sun illuminated her face
while she was draped in a shroud of lace
silenced forever now is her scream
the last maiden drifts sown the stream.
1:00 PM - 2/3/2007 -
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