deepundergroundpoetry.com
WHITE
How could it be
My oath of malice, broken?
What did I see
From out my dreams, awoken?
Fair and unbeknownst to me
With radiance bequeathed the shade
To my orbicular gates
Stricken
The purity refined therein
Made every light anemic
And the rose of her smile
My kaleidoscopic prison
A single thought escaped
As I made away
"Goodness, me"
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