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Child of Hell
A child she is not;
Yet young she is
And her fleeting kiss,
Was as gentle as an autumn breeze,
Warm with the fire of blood and lust,
Yet insistent with the pull of needs and musts,
Seductress yet an innocent,
What she said isn't what she meant,
Child of the demons, child of hell,
Yet no one can tell...
Who really is Isabelle.
Written By:
Murielle
Note: The ff. web site is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to particular person/s, places or events are purely coincidental. Some things within the website are copyrighted to specific people. They are not public property.
All text are copyrighted to Murielle Almeida, 1999
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