Clouds of fruity mentos
Black venom rain
Shifting sunshine seas and
Bucking bull, a wooden ragdoll
through golden nectar
A girl of ivory
sparkle and vitality
reduced to an empty
reflection of herself
The viper moved on
hissing a swansong
on those who have shamed
and scorned leaving shadows
of souls and saplings
Receding to the red lines
of anger disguised
as those whispy puffs
of sunset indignation
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