A hundred thousand years ago
before the first man’s rise,
I chanced upon a trickster fox
that promised me the nighttime skies.

It led me to an empty field
With its tail wound ‘round my wrist,
“A simple trade” it said to me,
“None but the foolish would resist.”

“Look up,” whispered the fox to me,
“I offer you no lies.”
Above me sat a naked moon
laid bare before my doubting eyes.

“I’ve none to give,” said I to he,
grown teary at the thought,
“I am poor and penniless, you see,
alas, I can offer you naught.”

“No need for tears,” he said to me,
“Tis but a simple thing.
All I require is your heart,
dear girl, and I will make you king.”

“I can’t,” said I reluctantly,
“It is not mine to give…
but perhaps, for such a large reward,
for this, my lover might forgive?”

“That’s right,” the fox said, growing bold,
a rumble in his chest,
“All you need do is lay down here,
lie still and I shall do the rest.”

And so laid I, down in that field
and closed my eyes in wait,
expecting but a gentle kiss
to lead me to my final fate.

When suddenly he sprung at me,
eyes glowing and teeth bared.
In absence of that charming grin
I felt myself grow cold and scared.

It ripped and clawed right through my screams
and tore my body apart,
discarded my now-broken frame
and bit into my bloodied heart.

“Foolish girl,” said then the fox,
its fangs bared in a growl.
Above, the moon lay cold and bare
unshaken by the fox’s howl.


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