Wind swept trees,
gathering the virgin air.
Fertile soil,
quaffs the falling rain.
Melancholy mums,
dance in her hair.
Her beauty, a corrupted thorn...
to cause me pain.
Spring...
the bountiful bosomed bitch.
A seducer of addled loins.
Cursing lovers to ruinous ends.
A dark is in me,
which I do not care.
This Spring...
I'm but a stain
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