e-Paper Poetry of Vinx

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Daniel and Abigail

Receiving mails
From plenty maids..
There goes Daniel
A snake on shell
In shades of hell
With lots to tell…

Of a young whorl
Abigail her name
He forced to bed
Bruise her to blend
With joy but pain
Many years ago.

She is a whorl
He made so lame
Like a used frame
Broken to shame
Sane and insane
To her are same.


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