Time is a soldier of fortune, marching
With orders to spur on battle
Forcing loved ones apart in spite
Sending them searching once again
Reality shifts with each new find, cracking
The looking glass of myriad reflections
Teasing with misdirection and distraction
Disguising destiny in royal robes of free will
Perseverance and empty ache drive onward
Every kiss and touch burns with hope
The eyes always reveal false representation
Our hearts on brink of rupture, fate surrenders
Silver threads of seasoned need
Tie together their soulful blooms
Bouquet of hungry thoughts scent
Consummation of eternal soul mates
“Disguising destiny in royal robes of free will”. What a magnificent line! Bravo π π π
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Thank you, Jupiter. Not everyone catches on to the irony of this line. π
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