A day to recompense

The sun was dressed in mortal hues as if spread like a seasonal ball

on a prostitute’s canvas of life dilly dallying with a sigh of bereft love

The wonderful skies I wish to touch as they bend down on daily grind

Nothing to cope with the universe but a light so fast as relative to

my own existence is nothing but a lifeline of horrednous proportions

I hesitate to pick the flowers from the floor as they are in dire respect

for the prostiute who now having seen the remembrance of love lost

loose on me for stinking money that I recompense with delight

And the shadow of the sun growing intense as love forsakes the Gods

who trifle with money and lag behind all the sheep in an effot to guide

the sheep through intense fire on icy molten rocks where fledgling birds

sweep on to kill the last remanant of love as seen by the prostiute through

corner of her eye. Rest all sweeps the vale where lay hidden love and diamonds.

The prostiute looked with a shine in the diamonds that are women’s forever friends

 

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