She comes to me at night,
She is the owl of my dreams,
Reminding me of solitude,
Sewing up my tearing seams,
She gives me all that I could need,
I stretch her wings, lay her down, and start to feed,

Her eyes are deep and haunting,
She can vanish if you do not watch,
All that she will leave will be,
A pile of blood, sweat and cloth,

Passion hunter consuming all,
Every rat feels blessed,
When she’s done, you take the fall,
She goes until there’s nothing left

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