perished art.

unbeknown, to the destiny of ways. two souls, part. down roads, never made. the lavender night, in its implacable essence. greets two lovers, on the border, between separate paths. her weighted head, rests, against his tiring shoulders. in silence they breathe, as the commotion, of the city fades. if only they could see, their own reflection. in the winter’s haze, by towers of glass. see how their bodies mould, into inconceivable art. Maybe then, would their hearts, conceive intention. a modern tale, where romance withers. with no resistance, from either side. they make their way, down different roads. too endless, and alien. for both their sights.

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