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My dearest Count,
Oh Lord of night.
Your noble image,
Is a welcome sight.

I have waited, for so long,
I knew you would return.
For your bitter sweet kiss,
My humble neck does burn.

So come my dear,
And drink your fill.
Whilst in your arms,
I feel no ill.

Then leave you will,
I know you must.
But promise me you will return,
For in your word I trust.

Raven
December 26, 2001

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