In the night's embrace, a tale unfolds,
A girl of twenty-eight, her story untold,
Cloaked in ebony lace with borders ablaze,
She dons a dress of allure, a mystic haze.
Sheer sleeves whisper secrets to the breeze,
A dance of shadows, a haunting tease,
An orange garter belt graces her waist,
A touch of daring, a hint of grace.
The backdrop, a graveyard, silent and still,
A resting place for souls, a whispering thrill,
A pond reflects the moonlight's gentle gleam,
Mirroring secrets lost, in its tranquil dream.
Marigold candles flicker, casting their glow,
Like celestial flames, they softly bestow,
Their petals aflame, an offering to the night,
Bathing the scene in a warm, golden light.
Above, a cloudy sky, painted with mystery,
Veiled in obscurity, concealing history,
The moon peeks through, a pale, guiding light,
Casting an ethereal glow, weaving dreams in flight.
Amidst this enchantment, a mysterious mist,
Veiling the graveyard with a whispered twist,
It dances with shadows, concealing its intent,
A shroud of intrigue, an enigma heaven-sent.
And in this poetic fusion, a tale begins,
Of a girl, ageless, as the night softly grins,
Her black lace dress and haunting allure,
In the graveyard's embrace, a story pure.
Whispers of the past and dreams yet to be,
Interwoven in moonlight's tender decree,
A tableau of beauty, draped in twilight's kiss,
The 28-year-old girl, forever in poetic bliss.
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