Would I Lie

by Pheyniex

Dearest Lady of Illusion
Am I lost at your palace
Shrouded garden in delusion,
Bright cold without solace.

Your silence becomes mine,
Distorting perception as fit.
Enchained never felt so fine,
Mimicked insight within wit.

Elegance of simplistic power,
A dashing kiss at late hour,
Baroque play of insane seduction
In a bed of incertes compulsion
Overshadowed by mirrors without,
A fleeting display of deceit.
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