Perfect,
azure canvas.
Untouched
by the ravishes of time.
Cotton candy clouds
waltz idly across
your frail like surface.
I watch now,
as you seep and
bleed
orange hues;
as the clouds stain
crimson, dissipating
your pallid violets and
blues.
Apollo,
wise one,
did you see this coming?
Your
godlike
façade
now disappears.
And everything
everything of yours
now is lost
within the nights dissolve.
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