Lights fading of candles’ glow Who knows how this story goes Perhaps it is just a ruse Yet it is hard to see past the red hue The blood trickles thick Across the wooded sticks Which lie deep in the willows An aching heart mellows The man of worry paces in the tavern Hears the steps of another closing in on this hour His heart ceases from its mellow state And begins to pick up its pace The murderer is near He mumbles in fear As he killed my wife Who died by the knife I too fall from my life
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