The gypsies spell
weaves a confusing
tapestry of mystery,
plundered by her
dance, they moved
to the beat of
the drum,
thunderous bass
tones that played
with the blazing
fires at night,
on & on through
the darkness he
pounded while she
cried,
tears that lead to
infinite solitude
while the cold wind
howls.
Cold Wind Howls
Cold Wind Howls
me I feel like I'm becoming some kinda Kung fu t.v. Priest.....
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