Crimson Manor

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As the sun fades away,

Crimson clouds start forming over the manor.

Even the most hopeful ones,

Feel the eternal agony of bedside manner.

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No one would ever dare to enter this rotting manor,

Only leech and death are welcome here.

Who knows which one will be the victor,

In the light of a new dawn.

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​For the first time, last night I began writing poems about horror, fantastic and gothic culture. This is my first poem. Any negative and positive criticism would be appreciated.

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