Prompt: write poems in which mysterious and magical things occur.
She stands on the cliff-edge of doom
Wind blowing
Hair flowing
In that moment her death did loom.
But in her heart she feels no fear
No heart racing
No feet pacing
It is the witch’s voice she hears.
“Look into my eye; see how you will die.”
Pupils staring
Nostrils flaring
She sees her fate—is satisfied.
So from the cliff she takes a dive
Legs lunging
Arms plunging
Knowing that she will survive.
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