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Cast a drab shadow on my adjacent soul
And protecteth it from Helios above.
Neglected in shrouded shalom, contoured in kohl
You indefinite ruin, You darkened dove.
Obelisk towering as my shaded shelter
Untied to serve no master in dark.
Forged with fire, with brimstone in welter
Obliged to nothing, Ronin sharpened arc.
Ripped through tear of flesh and blood
Gave way my physical being of desire.
It punctured through altar, frustum of mud
Veiling ethereal magnificent, we all acquire.
Eastern deities and imperial gods,
Match not with what I awed.
Erased, my heart is not.
Robin.
Brushed against my side
Her figure seen divine,
Our bodies intertwine
Exposure. Nowhere to hide.

Hands to run, endlessly
Over eternal curved features,
How did I captivate this creature
Just to lose her hopelessly?
Who is this poet?

Is he faithful to his poetry
as good as pretends to be
or his heart is ever on the darkside
nowhere near of what he writes.

Who is this poet?

Is his hat real or fake
he’s weak and easily breaks
he aims only to teach
never follows all that he preach.

Who is this poet?

Is he really that sweet
joyous and good as his wit
does he expose truly his heart
or the real he hides behind his art.

Who is this poet?

Does he have in him
all his painted dream
the lover’s happiness
he does profess.

Who is this poet?

Is at heart he's that pure
what with words he conjures
or all them are just his arty wile
he's merely spinning tales in style.
the lens turned to self.
Kiss my thoughts
Listen to my lips
Hold my heart
Feel my hips
Judge my motives
Understand my actions
Get drunk off of my love
Fill me with passion
Like a fog that blinds,
her smile dazzles you.
Like a chain that binds
her eyes imprison you.

She's a work of art.
She's such a hard worker.
She could break my heart
and she's mine all mine.

The longest dark hair
and her curvy features.
Plus two small hands
that make cute gestures.

She's a work of art.
She's such a hard worker.
She could break my heart
and she's mine all mine.
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