➳ quattourdecim

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The mirror reflects a physique
cloaked.
Vision hazed, holy oil soaked.

Masked in champagne, her smile is faint.
Eyes kohled, a black shadowed taint.

Delicate frame, her little pink toes to
fame.
A quicksand of bliss, herself to blame.

Mummy had said no, but Jesus said
yes. 
Silent footsteps of fatal posses.

Lips dried and cracked, no water nor
thirst.
It matters not, a fallen cross curse.

You question truth, vague answers are
blind. 
At day's end, you call His name from doors behind.

A rapture unnoticed, His skies now
pink. 
Colors remorse dawn, do not blink.

Run or stay, in whose name will you
pray?
green grass burnt, your beliefs now  frayed.

Truth compels you, at the end of the
day.
No one survives, you have no say.

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