Lydia

Through the searching lights that weave and dart

Comes the stranger that cares not for your heart

The pain of living life this way

Must take its toll on you some day

You jaded eyes can see embarrassment or harm

The frail skin that bleeds emotionally on guard

All lowest forms of life are pounding you inside

Your hollow cold display your tired masquerade

Let the image that you present entice unlike

The mirror that shows the strains of vice

This act of contact your decay

While willing souls will more than pay.


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