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Image for the poem Truly,

Truly,

Betrayal invites itself for dinner
when the murky air won’t lift
revealing the shattered facade
that's rebuilding a fallen idol.
 
There are pieces scattered afar
of resolution and calm that wouldn’t stay
choking on the whims of forlorn affection
the rope is cut, the fall is long.
 
Down at the bottom, strangers are friends
sirens are lures and the moon has a heart
quietly lay sleeping, anger is dreaming
marriage is the fury of destiny’s wrath.
Written by 13
Published | Edited 4th Dec 2013
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