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Rated: E · Poetry · Romance/Love · #1647392
The fickle love that bites you.

Where to begin my great search in despair?
Where is it that I lost my virgin heart?
Turn to you, probe deep your eyes, do I dare?
Tread lightly I must, and make it an art

Some days ago I bestowed a great gem
What you have done with it, I am concerned
I fear of what you might do before them
Run I must, lest I remain and get burned

You showed the world and cried to them to jest
My eyes leaked tears as their salt scorched my lips
Innocent was I when I gave my best
Your shadow trumped my light like an eclipse

Master of many facades when you claim
Life after life you touch, never the same

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