I see an old woman dressed in black lying by the stairs.
She never looks up at me but merely sits, waiting.
I have known her from countless past lives,
Yet she is still new to me as if merely a newborn yew.

But for her gentle, loving gaze, I would have stayed away,
Yet she enchanted me as if I had never known of love before;
Even though I knew she would lead me to destruction,
Even though I knew she could destroy me on a whim,
I could not look away,
I could not let her get away.

I go into her loving embrace,
A child to their mother.
Slowly the color drains from my face.
I feel cold, even as though it were winter's grasp,
Yet I was comforted by the thought for that.
For but a single instance in time,
We were of one substance,
And nothing can ever end that enduring moment.

The bond of eternity,
Predator and prey,
The spider and the fly.

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