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A glimpse into the future, to a very sad event.

The Prophecy

Mary_cochrane_photo_march_2013by Mary Cochrane30 Aug 2014

You looked so young I could have sworn
That you were seventeen,
Your beauty struck me like a vision
From the most elaborate of dreams.

Your hair was soft and gently wrapped
Around your face with velvet ease,
Your eyes were closed and you were still
And all about you felt your peace.

Nor did you sigh nor move your lips
When I knelt down to kiss your head,
Your skin so fair no warmth did bear
And then I knew that you were dead.