《The Phoenix. Poems》Liar

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Her eyes are dead,

her face without a thought,

her head desires to rule,

lips bite with sweet lies,

the hands of tenderness

sell illusions.

I am the servant,

and a champion of

these questionable services.

A fool and a wise man,

cause I know it's all a lie

but I touch a lie with a lie.

I accept them and pretend,

that I want it.

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