Wednesday, June 25, 2025

The painted lady

There was once a painted lady, she worked through the night,

A shadow in moonlight, flickering in flight.

Her colors were secrets, her wings whispered tight,

A silent enigma in the pale starlight.


If ever she caught you, beware her keen bite,

A sting like a whisper, swift as the night.

Her beauty concealed a fierce, hidden might,

A guardian of shadows, born of twilight.


She dances on edges where danger and dreams entwine,

A creature of mystery, both deadly and divine.

In the quiet darkness, she silently reigns,

The painted lady, in her haunting refrains.

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