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Tatianah Walker Jun 2014
The sweet tryst of your love has had its end
Which fadeth through the dawn, it coexists
The keen affection descends like a trend--
You slowly, but surely, have to desist.

The sickness spreads, continues to rescind
A whirlwind of sentiment takes it's place
Your mind undergoes sins of rue chagrin
Your life, just a sad blur, will end it's pace

Will you tell yourself it was all a lie?
Or will you own up to fabrication?
Your goal in life was to personify,
To move man with simple revelation

In your last breathe, you find the true meaning
To live as king, and to die demeaning

— The End —