Issue #65
Summer 2003

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By Kļæ½Tallia

The dawn rises

its brazen red marks

the horizon

of a new day

On the beach

stands a lone woman

In front of her

the sea gently

caresses her toes

To her right

a fire chokes itself

on ashes

To her left

a tent, her home

Behind her


with seared flesh

decapitated heads

and empty eyes

There was much destruction

the day before last

Her not yet forgotten

bloodstained batleth sits

on the ground

outside her home

Her face is strained

with dried remnants of blood

she hasn't wiped off yet

Her journey is not

unlike her ancestors

and it will not be her last

Her guide are the stars

and she will continue

to have success and honour

whenever she goes

Because she is the black widow

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