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The Face Of Truth
Andres D.S. Wilson |
The face of truth is without scar,
His smile cracks the walls of void,
A rocket, by black Jove deployed,
Whose travel shreds the stars to shards.
While Falsehood has a faceless form,
Not uncomely, yet not alive,
Whose dance is still, a motionless writhe,
Resembling the aftermath of storm.
Wandering, on whom shall I plant my kiss,
The nameless and faceless, or that child of bliss?
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