My eyes in darkness lie, in a black cowl
She has died at my hands, the hunchback cow,
Never will the black stain on my shirt be scrubbed,
Today, I walked hand-cuffed to her corpse.
All is thrown away, that stood like a moon
For the pale criminal to replace like
Ledger lines written on the wet sand
Of destiny, like a flame, of flowers.
Murder is a moonlit crime, it’s a stolen
Moment sweet, with bragging rights,
As you push the flower through the flame,
For to make a name, in Sleepy Hollow.
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