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Image for the poem venom

venom

 
to speaketh ill, the lady fought with her words
to cover them with flowery intent
words of no nutrition but to spit venom

the poison wrought made everything rotten
and she had naught to eat
but the death of her value

conceit concerning nothing
she rambles in the dark
amazing no one

her end quite frightful
she was utterly consumed in the flames
of her failure






Written by smackdownraven
Published
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