Sycophant by Gracia Amor

Hot red lips in the eyes of a lover
gripping chain of the past

Black sorrow grasping at the chain of fear too,
weary and shallow

Leaves are wilted, scarlet petals withering

A fiery haze in his halo

The fiercely purple scene appears to be robbed

Brown skin held her hands in a mystery of sand

Her blue eyes surge from the horizon

A limestone made to be a stairway leading to a limp corps
with a carved of her name in the stones.

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