Strolling down the dusty trail Dusk as quiet as a bridal veil. The sky was clear-a shimmering blue, Sculptured nature providing the view. Inside the woods,leaves unnaturally piled, Mark the scene of tempers wild. Concealed nearbye,the murder tool; still coated in a crimson ghoul. Silence screamed,the birds are few, As if,instinctively,they all knew. That this was the murderer one last time- Returning to the scene of the bloody crime. I didn't regret the violent deed I had shared, The Game Park's loss is the fox we've snared...Birth sign: Scorpio
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