I stand alone staring at a mango-hued sky,
Stuck, grounded, night draws nigh.
Birds, they take to the air and flutter about,
Like winged fairies, darting, swooping here and there,
Caressing the air, 'til they flee peril, hearing a shout.
I find I cannot fly! I stifle a cry.
A fiend has slithered in from the umbra,
His magnificent, eternal eyes foretell of his evil agenda.
I wear a mask, defenseless.
The forest teems with creatures all about: beastly whispers.
The ritual begins as the sun's golden pearl disappears.
She lies, ignorant in unknown ecstasy,
I hear her calling to me.
As the horned beast closes in, antlers high,
He has conquered, her innocence dies.
Then forbidden, now desired.
She indulges in his eminence,
The imminence of danger a delight
No longer does she entertain the thought of flight.
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