Ashes falling, embers red,
The bliss of escape, had she fled,
Body slumped on the armchair,
Hair auburn, fairest of the fair,
Eyes closed, some misery, a sigh,
Murderer was dead but she won't die,
Memories sickly sweet, those which kill,
A puff, the dispersing smoke which wont fill,
The gaping hole
In her soul.
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