On the day of our plight
Come the vixen, she might
With her coat white as snow
Slinking up from below
She has not one but nine
Tails to intertwine
Eyes that shine bright gold
Like the coins they've tolled
Foil her not
She cannot be caught
Deception is her trick
One that you cannot pick
She guards the ancient cherry tree
Where to the dead shall flee
Her wisdom is unchallenged
Her stealth never flaccid
Her body slim and agile
She is all but fragile
Though her beauty is unreal
She could make you her meal
Her teeth are soaked in blood
Her claws could make you stud
Her story is not faux
She is the nine-tailed fox
<->
Hope that this is good! It's not my usual style, but I thought I would try it.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Of Scales and Flames
PoesiaA book about one art that is smooth, flowing and beautiful, poetry. Read about prophecies, fairytales, lifestyles, adventures, anything that can be written as poetry.
