there goes a myth, a tale, a legend,
the eighth lady of the eighth lady,
commits suicide by noose or fire
from the vision of ole' madam o'grady,
she sings at night to the spanish friar,
her lullabies are sweet, soft, so gentle,
that one cannot pass without the audacity to admire,
then one sleeps to later awaken mental.
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helloooo! i was inspired by alina's lewy fic and anna to write another poetry but im trying to do a spooky poem idk haha we'll see what it turns out. hope you like it!
>giorgina<
YOU ARE READING
octavia | torres
Poetry"the myth of the eighth daughter of the eighth daughter is very much real."
