Edédaigne

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Long ago lived this fox – wild – which I tried to tame,

Its heart was is a box deep behind walls of shame,

It felt vulnerable with very few loose threads,

And yet more than able to turn so many heads,

I tried hard to become its friend, its companion,

But could not overcome the width of this canyon

That it had dug so deep and baleful between us,

Days grew into months and months into years

And I feared this story would forever be thus

Though I never gave up or gave in to my fears,

Then on a rainy noon a miracle happened,

We but shared a small cup next to a warm fireplace,

It was a simple drink however, it deepened

The bond we had woven out of this breath-thin lace,

To this day I know not whatever made it change

Its ways, its trust but home came suddenly in range;

Now the door was open even if just a tad

And the uninviting, time-ragged stone threshold

That, since the beginning, had always seemed so sad

Filled with colorful lights the air that once was cold.

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Fiends are but friends that never are.

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