They Have Drunk…

They Have Drunk...

They have drunk from your decanter of sorrows.
Bathed in your iniquity.
What remains then of a tattered phantasm,
A consciousness vulnerable to the mind,
Yet vulgar to the eye?
Loneliness is a velvet cocoon,
Slowly ripped to fine shreds by the restless
Light of your virtue.

Art: “The Loneliness”
Anna Pronskaya

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