Two Deceptions
B
Barry Middleton
0
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both are like the falling leaves
a tale that no one ever believes
a passing season and a lover
coming and going of perfume
revolves in an enchanted room
till love consumes a fevered heart
death is the breast of darkest night
a western moon fades from sight
surrendered to its mausoleum
yet we cling to seasons past
affections that can never last
antique lies we choose to cherish
like gardens where maidens stray
and angel spirits croon and sway
and wait to satisfy our hunger
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