April '02 ~ Virelay [for W.] |
I never thought the night would come |
Our lips they kissed, and fears were chased |
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Mine eyes met yours, beaming such |
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Your fangs they sliced, eyes close to see |
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© .04.29.02. ~s. |
Lips upon my brow, soft voice in my head |
Virelay: Any of several medieval French verse and song forms, especially one in which each stanza has two rhymes, the end rhyme recurring as the first rhyme of the following stanza.