The sunlight played its part
When the wind blew the curtain
And threw light on the lie
Sitting pretty on the high chair
Of immorality and distrust
Smiling with a halo shining red
Disguised in the semblance of an angel
With a frippery soul for existence
Which knows no heart or its viand
Living in a world balanced on a pin
Playing an execrable role innocently
With the prowess of an actor on stage,
Like the rest of us.
In the same plot with different scripts.
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