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Sunday, 8 January 2017

Poem: Plagues of Passion

Beauty beckoned and beguiled, 
Lyrically luring to the lair; 
Clarity of curvaceous charms, 
Represents risks of the ravenous. 

The Enigma that you are, 
I shall never call your name; 
Never let it come alive, 
To taunt once more. 

Every game's gotta have gains, 
Strokes, strikes or the stakes; 
Played for plagues of passion, 
Wits withheld and withdrawn. 

The Confusion that you are, 
I shall never learn your nature; 
Never want to know which side, 
Of your facade remains true. 

Copyright © 2016 thearcticstar

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