A crow flew to me, kept it’s distance
Such a proud creation
I saw it’s soul, envied it’s pride
But needed nothing it hadAn owl came to me, old and wise
Pierced right through my youth
I learned it’s ways, envied it’s sense
But needed nothing it hadA dove came to me, had no fear
It rested on my arm
I touched it’s calm, envied it’s love
But needed nothing it hadA swan of white, she came to me
The lake mirrored her beauty sweet
I kissed her neck, adored her grace
But needed nothing she could give

books and literature
Werewolves Wednesday: The Wolf-Leader (13)
A werewolf story by Alexandre Dumas père. Chapter XIII: Where it is demonstrated that a Woman never speaks more eloquently than when she holds her tongue As Thibault was talking to himself he did not catch the few hurried words which Suzanne whispered to the Baron;
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