A Transitional Story
Master of illusionson deaf ears, one falls.
Left in perpetual confusion
empty promises, silence calls.
Again a mute word, grazes lips.
Feather tails rustle, among a breeder's
scented night.
The bustle of the cityscape transcends,
like an airplane nowhere in sight.
Spoken softly again.
Covered mirrors, cause in-just
descended into pastures,
with hearts saturated, in lust.
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