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Red Flowers
The black veil leans gently on her raven hair, and the pale fingers squeezes gently the little book. It's already night and the young woman raises her eyes in search of moonlight, but there is nothing around her, except the dense darkness and red flowers. Blood and vibrant of life are the scarlet flowers, that breathe the bleak air of the field pulsating slowly. Poem (C): Me. “A Demoniac" (C): Jo…